


Beginning at the End

by Witches_Britches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, HarryPotter - Freeform, Lemon, Lime, Minor Character Death, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, War, dramione - Freeform, tent, witchesbritches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:31:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 106,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witches_Britches/pseuds/Witches_Britches
Summary: After a night of torture at Malfoy Manor, Hermione awakens to find that she has been rescued by Draco. As she recovers in a distant land, perspectives are revealed and everything changes. Anxious to return so she can find the Order, will Hermione consider Draco trustworthy enough to bring him back with her?Warning:-Lemons/Limes-Strays from Canon-Characters owned by J.K. Rowling





	1. Epiphany

While Hermione had initially tried her best not to cry, it had soon become beyond her control. Her body reacted violently to the unheard-of curses that she was subjected to. In response to her gut-wrenching screams, that echoed throughout Malfoy Manor, was the shrill cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange at her side. Hermione tried not to concentrate on what felt like the relentless stabbing of needles in her legs, or the stench from the yellow rotting teeth of the witch hexing her.

Bellatrix's eyes grew wide in disgust, insulted by Hermione's defiance. Shifting her weight, she dug her knees further into Hermione's stomach. Hermione desperately strained beneath her. Though it was useless, she could not help but try to escape, failing each time. Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, lowering her lips to Hermione's ear, "You pathetic little  _Mudblood_ , I will ask you one more time... was. that. boy. Harry. Potter?... NAME HIM!"

Hermione closed her eyes and kept her mouth shut tight, so as to not confront Bellatrix's eyes or her spit. Between questions about the Sword of Gryffindor and Harry, she admitted to nothing, but Bellatrix's breath was foul, enough to force a cough from her. Before she knew it, another curse was thrown at her body. Losing what little sense of control she had left, Hermione released a cracked scream that faded into nothing.

Bellatrix stood over her victim, hands on hips, put out that she had not remained conscious enough to suffer more of her hexes. "Pathetic Mudbloods." She wiped her nose with her sleeve, tilting her head in study of the broken girl below her. "This is making me rather peckish." She then knelt down low to whisper in Hermione's ear, "Don't worry  _filth_ , I'll be back for more." Bellatrix kicked her for good measure, then proudly stepped over Hermione's limp body and walked away to another area of the manor.

The clicking of her heels could be heard echoing further and further away until the room was quiet. A heavy silence settled upon the room decorated with gothic carpets, large fireplaces, that fit the high ceilings with gigantic chandeliers. It might have appeared to be a nice residence if it was not congested with dark magic that choked the air, making it cold and miserable.

Hermione lay in the middle of the drawing room, blood dripping from her arm, soaking into the carpet. Although she was abandoned, she was not alone.

Apprehensively, her old school-nemesis, Draco Malfoy, lurked in an arched entryway nearby. He had heard her screams and rushed over and took witness to his Aunt torturing her. With his pale skin, fair hair, and light gray eyes, he looked like a ghost as he stared at the figure laying in the middle of the room.

Draco could not believe Hermione Granger was currently helpless on his sitting room floor. Despite usually being quick-witted and clever, his mind was filled with an overwhelming numbness. He knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew it would lead to certain death and the torture of his parents. Even to think of helping a Muggle-born was already a crime, according to the Dark Lord.

He had teased Hermione in the past, calling her a Mudblood, but that had been out of immaturity, to make himself feel stronger and better, but also to hide his true self. It had never occurred to him that it might come to this. Draco internally cursed Potter for getting caught. Though he mostly despised himself and his place in this game.

A far away sound caused him to glance down a hallway to where it had come. He had an idea to go to the dungeons and unlatch the cell door to where Potter and Weasley were placed. Maybe let them free without anyone's notice, the least he could do after everything.

Then he looked back to Bellatrix's victim, and dared to think that there wouldn't be any harm in walking over to see her. But what if she were to wake? What if she screamed? What if Bellatrix came in? He looked around, wishing he could use a charm to hide himself, but so many were blocked by the Dark Lord in his lack of trust. He closed his eyes and exhaled, convincing himself that she did not  _belong_  to Bellatrix.

Finally, after all his years of hiding, he abruptly got the courage to walk over to Hermione Granger.

One cautious step at a time, he approached, on constant alert for the possibility of anyone entering the room to take witness. He had already prepared a few excuses as to why he was there;  _To take her to the dungeons_ , or, _to gather wands left behind by the prisoners_.

He did not expect how he might feel or react, being this close, but as he stood over her, he felt a lump in his throat. Tears began to swell in his eyes, his nostrils flared as his breathing quickened. He instinctively bent down to feel her pulse, and a wave of warmth came over him when he felt a heartbeat. One of her arms, he noticed, was dripping with fresh blood where it appeared Bellatrix had etched something into the flesh of her forearm. It looked like words, but Draco could not read it just then.

He stared at her and thought,  _I've never known her to be so calm, but-I've never known her at all._

The thought gave him anxiety. If the intense nature of Hermione Granger could become still and muted, what else could happen? Is this real? Is this how it all ends?

He could feel his heart racing as he filtered through options in his mind. He was sick of the war, but seeing her here, this way, pushed him to the edge. There was nothing more to lose. Suddenly, he heard a rustling noise nearby and glanced up to search for the source of the disturbance. Frantically, he ran through the excuses he had thought up earlier, while also thinking how he could hide or leave before the intruder had witnessed him there at all.

Before he could make a decision, he recognized the approaching figure of his mother. Unlike her sister Bellatrix, who had always been dark and commanding, Narcissa Malfoy was softer and more passive. Her white-blond hair was not the only thing she passed on to him, all of her love and energy had been devoted to him as well.

However, at this very moment Draco felt invaded by his mother, as if she had interrupted his curiosity toward someone he  _should_  be indifferent to. Every click of her heel on the wood floors seemed to match the pulse of his heart.

Narcissa's hands were full of wands and various effects. It was likely that she received instructions to gather all personal items from prisoners, as she looked to be scanning the room for more before spotting her son. They locked eyes, and Draco, feeling as if his mother had caught him stealing potions, lowered his head. Before approaching him, she looked over to notice that he was standing beside Hermione Granger.

Draco was taken aback when his mother nodded in understanding and sprang into action, walking swiftly over to him. For a moment, he thought she might help him walk away from the situation and assign him some other task issued by the Dark Lord.

Instead she whispered, "Draco, wait here."

Perplexed, Draco shoved his hands in his robes, the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of his nails nervously, obediently waiting for his mother to return.

Narcissa seemed to have reappeared as quickly as she had left, holding what Draco recognized to be his messenger bag. This bag was special, it was one his mother had advised him to keep packed for emergencies ever since the Dark Lord had taken over their home.

She handed it to him, and while he held it curiously, she opened it. Then his mother held out all the wands she had collected, presenting them to Draco. He glanced at his mother, wondering if she was thinking the same thing as him. He scanned them and grabbed the wand engraved with vines that he knew belonged to Granger.

Narcissa quickly placed a confiscated purse into his bag and he assertively proceeded to do the same for her wand. His heart raced at what she was implying by joining their possessions into one bag.

Suddenly, a loud 'crack' caused Draco to flinch. He was surprised to see that their old house elf, Dobby, had Apparated near them.

Narcissa seemed pleased, "Dobby, take Draco from the manor and then come back."

Dobby nodded and approached Draco.

Having not seen Dobby in years, Draco was shocked.  _Did my mother continue to stay in contact with him?_

Pulling her son into a strong hug, Narcissa whispered in his ear, "I understand. Take her. Be safe."

For a moment, Draco could only stare at his mother in disbelief. He hesitated, and was about to reply, but was stopped short when they both heard footsteps in the distance.

His mother looked him in the eye with a stern expression and with a short nod, "Go".

Slinging the strap of his bag over his head and across his shoulder, he bent down to pick up Hermione, holding her helpless form against him tightly.

Looking down at her, he wondered,  _Will she splinch in this state? Will they find us? Who am I to control her fate? Where should I take her?_

With a final look at his mother, not knowing if he would ever see her again, he nodded to Dobby. At his signal, the elf took hold of Draco and the three of them Disapparated from the manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, thanks for taking the time to start this story! It's really old actually, and I've been re-editing for smoother reading. If you have the time, don't be afraid to leave your comments below! I'm pretty thick skinned so opinions welcome, and who knows, maybe your feedback will give me some inspiration for the rest of the story! Your brain, is my gain. ENJOY!


	2. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://witches-britches.com/Art/DramioneFanArt_skg_2019.jpg)   
> 

Draco held tight to Hermione, as the echoing  _crack_  of Apparition broke the silence of their new location. He winced as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight reflecting off the clouds just outside the Malfoy property line. He looked down to the body in his arms and scanned her to be sure she was still breathing. Hermione was alive, but remained unconscious.

His heart raced as he noted blood on his hands.  _Fuck, did I splinch her? Where's my wand, I- oh, that was already there..._ Draco stared down at his hand, covered with smears of blood from Hermione's forearm. Rubbing his fingers together as if to inspect it, the blood that seemed to be slowly drying, becoming sticky from the outside air.

He caught Dobby watching him, and nearly thanked him but before he had a chance to say anything, another loud  _crack_  signaled Dobby's disappearance.

He looked to Hermione, knowing he needed to move on. Pulling out his wand, Draco closed his eyes to concentrate and Disapparated.

His first landing with Hermione in his arms was a bit rough, maybe he had Apparated too far, but he wanted to gain some distance and quick. Draco checked her and then up at the empty field they had landed in, far from England. He knew his dark mark allowed him to break the Ministry's International Travel regulation, one perk of the Dark Lord. In the past, he had traveled to many places with his mother but one that lingered in the back of his mind, the farthest he's ever been. He did not want to take any chances in Hermione's condition, so he began to Apparate from one country to another to get closer to his targeted location.

He Apparated them to a new location every ten minutes, and was sure to check on Hermione after each time. She was still passed out but breathing regularly. He took care that all his chosen locations were quiet and deserted, to avoid being seen. He knew where Death Eaters would be on watch so he avoided them.

It felt strange, as Draco had never spent this much time with Hermione, passed out or not. He liked the idea of taking care of her but wondered if she would feel the same way.

_Probably not_ , he thought, bitterly.

After several hours, with his arms aching, Draco finally arrived at his desired location. Taking a deep breath, Draco looked at his surroundings. He had transported them between towering hills almost the size of mountains. The ocean could be seen in the far distance as the sun threatened to dip into the water, before he could inspect Hermione and set up a type of shelter for them.

He had chosen it because he had never expressed to anyone that  _this_  was his favorite place to be. He did not have any real friends, not like  _she_  had. Not one of his Slytherin friends ever truly cared about him, unless prospect was involved. Then when the Malfoy reputation had begun to sink, he suddenly became someone to avoid, like Filch after hours. He was hardly stunned when they all came slithering back after the Dark Lord decided on Malfoy Manor for his headquarters.

Now that they had arrived, he felt more safe. The land was as beautiful as ever but he knew he needed focus back on to Hermione's ill state. He felt a pang of guilt at leaving his mother behind to deal with the repercussions of his disappearance.

_How long will it take for someone to notice?_ Draco began to wonder.  _Would mother make an excuse or play dumb_? He figured the Dark Lord would punish both of his parents, though his concern is merely focused on his mother. Draco's throat felt tight making it hard to swallow, maybe he should help Granger then go back for his mother. Doubt festered in his mind,  _She shouldn't have let me go, I can't do this_. As the weight of Hermione's body lay on top of his forearm, the evening wind tickled her frizzy locks across his wrist. Just then, he swore he could feel the heat of the dark mark. Could she feel it too? Could  _he_ sense Draco's treason? Would the contact of his mark scorch her, a muggleborn?

Attempting to concentrate, he settled Hermione down on a place where the sunlight had warmed a spot of luscious green grass. There was no one in sight, which was exactly why he had chosen this location. To him, it was the most beautifully secluded place, though it had a hint of loneliness. The beauty of it helped him forget his dark past, full of regrets. When he did manage to visit, it leveled out his sanity from this war along with breaking away from the Dark Lord residing in his home. Here, he could pretend that he could start again and be someone new with no one could stop him. Now though, he had company, someone to join him in his private, hopeful world. Though, after she awakens, he had a sinking feeling that this scattered reality might solidify and he wouldn't feel so safe in it anymore.

Draco scanned Hermione's body for outward injuries. He only spotted the one on her forearm, where the blood looked to have stopped seeping from the lacerations. By now, he was more able to clearly see what Bellatrix had carved into Hermione's forearm:  _Mudblood_.

When he read it, he grit his teeth and thought,  _Bitch_.

He glanced at Hermione's face then back to her arm. Mudblood. It was a word that had plagued him with regret from their past, and now overwhelmed him with shame... Shame because this harm had come from someone in his own family. Hermione had no clue about his remorse and wondered if he would ever have the chance to tell her. He made himself a promise to get her better, protect her and maybe one day she could forgive everything.

He gently settled his shaky hand over Hermione's skin where the bloody letters were etched. Perhaps, he could magically make it disappear, but without that type of training, he failed. Instead, he took his wand and used a scouring charm to clean up the blood.

Draco remembered some of the curses Bellatrix had bragged about back at the manor. She had tested them on the defectors being held in the dungeons, some with painful incurable symptoms. There was no doubt she had put a variety of her new torture curses on Hermione.

There were three unspeakable curses, but Bellatrix had possibly invented a fourth, and a fifth, and so on. His aunt had liked to experiment, so Draco was certain there were more. In the long list of painful symptoms Bellatrix boasted about, he only remembered  _Locomotor Mortis_ , which affected the victim's legs, rendering them nearly immobile.

He looked down at his bag beside him, hoping he had potions for these type of symptoms. It had been awhile since he had originally packed his bag for emergencies. He hoped that his mother's vigilants on reminding the house elves to keep potions up to date, would be applicable here. He opened his bag with the extension charm on it, "Accio Potions".

Guiding all the potions onto the grass, he sifted through them noting the ones that would be more effective, even if he wasn't sure of her injuries. He was thankful for the quiet location, otherwise he would have felt the pressure of snatchers chasing after him for his treachery.

He decided on a healing potion, an anti-paralysis potion, and one for pain. He quickly glanced at the potion label on the side of the vials to confirm their expiration and was relieved to see that they were still good.

Carefully, he lifted her limp body to a sitting position and attempted to drip a little of the first potion past her lips.  _Just a small bit into her body should cause a reaction._

Hermione suddenly gagged and convulsed while Draco attempted to hold her still. He one-handedly grabbed the next potion, trying to hold her mouth open, swiftly pouring it past her lips.  _This will hopefully mend any internal injuries_...

His attempt to grab the last vial, the pain relieving potion, was unsuccessful, as her body had begun to shake so violently, he was forced to hold her tight so she would not injure herself.

After a long moment, Hermione's body calmed. She seemed to awaken and began coughing uncontrollably as she frantically calculated her surroundings. Disoriented, recalling her last location at Malfoy Manor, and finding now that she was in the arms of Draco Malfoy, she began to scream, "Let me go! I won't tell you anything! Get off!"

"I'm not here to hurt you, Granger," he replied calmly to her hysterics. "You're safe."

Still screaming, she attempted to push Draco away and stand up but quickly realized her legs were failing her. Instead, she managed to swing a punch at Draco.

He felt the sting of the hit and released his hold on her. He shuffled back to create a space between them, knocking over his bag as various items tumbled out. He closed his eyes from the pain and tasted blood in his mouth. He grunted to himself, though this went unheard over Hermione's continual rasping screams.

Pouting slightly over the pain in his lip, he figured if anyone had the right to hit and scream, it was Hermione... and if anyone deserved the result, it was him.

Even though she was riled up, he was glad to see the life back in her. He wondered if Potter and Weasley had ever seen her this furious. Maybe it was only him that brought this out in her. Given that Hermione did not seem to be able to move her legs, Draco's suspicions about his aunt's altered curses were proven correct.

While she was continuing her loud reaction, Draco suddenly remembered to place a Protego Totalum charm around them. As he raised his wand, she became quiet and he turned to see that she was slightly ducking her head, perhaps waiting for him to curse her. After he was finished, he put his wand down and raised his hands in surrender to show Hermione that he did not want to harm her.

It took Hermione a while to fully settle, as she was not herself after the cursed spells.

_This isn't England,_ she thought frantically.  _Why is Malfoy here? What is all of that stuff on the grass near him? Why is he so quiet? What has happened? Where are Harry and Ron? My arm hurts, what did Bellatrix do to my arm?_

At this last thought, Hermione glanced down to her forearm to see what was etched there. Through her teeth, she whispered, "That fucking bitch".

She was forced to close her eyes as she was assaulted by a painful headache, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to ease the pain. Draco looked up at Hermione, having never heard her swear before. Seeing that she was calming down, he decided it was time to speak with her about their situation.

Hermione managed to calm herself, having not been tortured or threatened in the five minutes since regaining consciousness. Logically, she knew it might be a good idea to start getting answers from the only other person present.

Glad she had finally become calm and quiet, Draco noticed her glance up at him. Deciding to speak, he hoped she would listen.

"Hey, Granger... I bet you have a lot of questions, but before that, take a rest and let me tell you what I know, okay?"

Hermione scowled at him then looked away. As if she had any other choice when currently disabled. Deciding to keep it brief, Draco had anticipated her asking lots of in-depth questions; after all, thiswas Hermione Granger...

"You, Potter and Weasley were caught by snatchers-"

He paused when he noticed Hermione staring off distantly into space. Wondering what she recalled, he felt like he needed some sort of response.

"...Do you remember that?"

Though she continued in her current state, she nodded, yes.

"Okay. I assume Potter and Weasley were taken to the dungeons at the manor by snatchers, meanwhile my Aunt Bellatrix tortured you with  _Merlin_  knows what specialty hexes that she invented. You're going to have a lot of pain and possibly some repercussions which I can attempt to heal with the potions I have."

Though Hermione continued to stare off into the distance, her eyes widened at his words and she raised her eyebrows.

Draco noticed her small reaction.

"I know that all sounds crazy coming from me, but that's where we are at, so right now I need you to just accept my help, no tricks, I promise."

Hermione did not feel like talking. She tried to comprehend his words but did not trust him and she would swear she recognized this landscape... Looking down at her legs, they did not hurt - in fact, she could not feel them at all.

Hesitantly, Draco scooted over to Hermione to hand her a vial. "This is for pain. I've already given you two vials to revive you and heal any internal injuries you may have had."

_Did I really drink something he gave me already?_ She accepted the vial suspiciously, wanting to take it for the pain in her head and arm, and even for her legs so she could feel them. She would be able to think much better without the headache. By now, Draco had walked away toward a pile of items on the grass and appeared to be organizing them. She took this time to take a small sip of the liquid she had been given, waiting to see if anything changed.

While she watched Draco organize from the corner of her eye, Hermione's eyes finally recognized something that made her connect to reality:  _her purse_. It was lying out on the grass near Draco's things.

Opting to try a wandless spell, she spoke low so he would not hear her. "Accio purse."

But the purse did not budge.  _Why isn't it working_?  _Am I really that out of sorts?_

She made a few more attempts, trying not to get Draco's attention, but failed. In a desperate state to have something of her own in this strange place, she managed to bellow, " _That's_ mine."

Draco glanced back at her. She was staring at her purse, still clutching a full vial of pain potion. He guessed that none of her wandless commands were working, otherwise she would have it by now. He thought it likely that one of Bellatrix's curse-concoctions could disable victims from using wandless magic.

He assumed Hermione had something in that purse that might help her attempt an escape. Draco could not have her traveling in her condition and _she_  would be audacious enough to do it. He remained quiet and decided to go back to organizing the items from his bag, though realizing he may not have anything to shelter them.

Hermione's eyes widened when she realized he was ignoring her. Growing agitated, she stormed, "Malfoy, that's MY purse, give it to me!"

Looking back at her as she glared at him, he contradicted, "I don't know what you have in your purse, Granger, but if it involves you trying to get out of here - it's too bloody dangerous! That goes for your wand, too! You're injured! Just finish the vial, I promise you  _will_ feel better."

_He has my wand too! What is his goal anyway, why should he care whether I live or die?_ she fumed silently. Her entire body was vibrating in anger; she hated not being in control.

By now, however, the small sip from the vial had noticeably lessened the pain in her head, though it was far from gone. Taking a chance, she swallowed the rest of the liquid, along with her pride. In under a minute, her aches subsided. Her arm was still painful, but she refused to acknowledge it. Draco was still organizing his things, now using his wand to pack his bag back up.

_There's no shelter or civilization here_ , she thought to herself,  _what's his idiot plan?_

Used to being on the run with Ron and Harry, she would by now have set up the tent that resided in her purse, but remembered they had been taken prisoner before she was able to re-pack it. Luckily, she did have a smaller tent inside, as well. She came to the conclusion that this was possibly why Draco had all his items out on the ground: he must not have a shelter, as now he was putting it all away again. Exhausted, she would prefer to be in a bed, resting, if she'd had a choice. She did not feel like helping or sharing, so she looked away from him, feeling ashamed at herself for the offer, while speaking in a monotone, "I have a tent in my purse."

Draco glanced up at her and then at her purse lying in the grass before going to pick it up. It was small and he was in disbelief that it too had an extension charm on it. "Accio tent."

He quickly jolted his head back to avoid the object that came popping up and out onto the grass between them.

"I guess I should have expected that  _you_ of all people, Granger, would have obtained an extension charm!"

Hermione shrugged at his comment and went back to looking away from him. She stared out at the orange, wavering sun as it just touched the horizon, making a long glowing line in the ocean that seemed to be pointing in their direction.

With a flick of his wand, the small-looking tent set itself up.  _This will be a bit too cozy for the both of us,_  Draco thought before he poked his head inside. In amazement, he glanced back to Hermione, "Nice place you've got here."

Hermione rolled her eyes assuming he was being sarcastic about the small size of her back-up tent. She tried to appear unconcerned by his comment.

Without Hermione's notice, Draco was surprised the tent also had an extension charm; the inside was spacious, with a rustic Muggle-camping feel to it. He wondered if everything in there could be done the Muggle way, as they should really be limiting their use of magic to prevent detection.

As he collected his bag and Hermione's purse to place them safely inside the tent, Draco reflected,  _The Dark Lord would be more powerful if he took HER out. Potter would be finished, the war ended, the world given up... Good thing they're too arrogant to see that, although I suppose Bellatrix did try, that bitch._

From where she was still waiting outside, Hermione shouted, "Are you really not going to let me have my purse or my wand?"

He poked his head outside, "No! You probably have some portkey or weapon stowed in there. You can't Disapparate in your condition. You'll probably splinch yourself and land in a snatcher's trap,  _again!_ "

Draco slipped away from her sight back inside the tent, leaving her to glower.

Hermione fumed, as she scratched her fingers deep into the earth, filling her nails with dirt.  _Does he just want some possessive control over me for revenge? Lucky guess on the portkeys... or he might ACTUALLY be clever. The portkeys wouldn't harm me unless I landed somewhere and was stranded..._ She plucked out a long blade of grass and studied it.  _UGH! I need control! What's his motive anyway? Maybe he's holding me hostage for the Dark Lord, but then why here, to this beautiful place? I can see water over there, is this an island or peninsula?_ Then she flung the grass into the wind. _But why have Draco monitor me? What happened to him? He left Hogwarts, what was he DOING? He always looked so scared and worn during sixth year._ This time she gripped a handful of grass from its roots pulling some dirt up as well. _Shameful! Why did I even think of him after all his cruelty, he let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and nearly killed Dumbledore, himself! My stupid pity, just because HE lost his confidence from being around- no,no, he's not Harry, it's different... Yeah, possibly worse! No! Stop! Do not pity the Death Eater, Hermione! I hate that he's fit. I. Hate. It. Wait-_ Her hand loosened and the glump of grass and dirt fell through her finger tips. _IS THIS why they chose him to monitor me? They could have used a legilimens spell on me to find my weaknesses, to get information out of me? How long was I out for? Did they see THOSE thoughts? Merlin, did they do anything else? I better keep my distance. If he's truly here to help, it'll show. If he has other motives, I'll notice. I will need to get better and then go save Ron and Harry... unless I'm too late..._

Hermione's frantic thoughts were interrupted by Draco's return. "Okay, ready? I'm going to have to lift you onto one of the beds. Don't look too frazzled, Granger, and... don't punch me, you're lucky I haven't bound you. You should try to knock that nasty habit of yours."

She sneered in response, "Fine, but make it quick. I'm not exactly thrilled about this."

Besides her annoyance laced with suspicion, she now felt awkward and ashamed that she had to rely on Draco. He crouched down and placed one arm under her knees and another on her back, lifting her against him and walking toward the tent.

Hermione hesitantly folded her arms. She wasn't sure if she should put them around his neck to make it easier on him, or no, that would be  _way_ too intimate, so she remained still, pretending to ignore how close she was to his face. A sudden realization dawned on her that Draco must have been holding her like this the whole time while she had been unconscious. At first she was unsettled, but the thought quickly faded in lieu of how comfortable it was pressed up against him. His scent was familiar and somehow relaxing, while exhaustion began to cloud her senses.

He held her effortlessly as they entered the tent's opening. To her astonishment, it was  _not_  the smaller back up tent, but rather the same tent that she, Ron, and Harry had shared.  _Did someone bring it to the manor? Maybe for inspection? But then who would pack it back into my purse... Draco?_   _But he didn't know I had it._

Draco stopped in the wide, open space in the center. "Which bed do you want?"

After spending months of travel in this space with her best friends, Hermione already knew where her bed was. She did not even acknowledge the beds on the left side. If she had, she might burst knowing that her best friends were somewhere else, somewhere worse. She nodded to the right and Draco carried her up the two steps, pulling the maroon curtain to the side before lowering her into the bed, where she remained in a sitting position out of sheer defiance.

"Are you okay here? Do you need anything?"

" _Besides_  something that'll fix my legs?"

"I'll work on that." He glanced at the kitchen counter, where it appeared he had set up a potions lab with various glass vials, cauldrons, and a stack of journals. There was also an open case with meticulously labeled drawers. "I think you should rest, I'll check up on you in a bit. Try not to look so worried."

In Hermione's exhaustion, she only nodded quietly and watched him walk away. She scooted further onto her bed and reached out to close the curtain. Draco seemed harmless so far, though she wondered how he knew so much about potions to expect to cure her ailments. She tried to analyze everything as usual, but sleep was quickly winning over thought, so she rested her head on her pillow and fell asleep.


	3. Reluctance

While Hermione slept, Draco spent most of his energy creating a potion that might cure her condition. After a few mistakes and nearly burning down part of the tent, he thought he might finally have created a successful batch. Though, the only way to find out, would be for her to wake up and try it.

During the day he made sure that his protective enchantments over the tent were still strong, testing them by stepping in, then out, then back in again. Sometimes finding a small rock or stick to throw to see how it interacted with the spell. He wondered if Hermione would find them adequate, or if she would have done better.

After more hours had passed, he went to check on her, expecting that she would wake up soon. Maybe her bodyclock was not adjusted to their current timezone, or perhaps she woke up in the night and purposely slept during the day to avoid him. So one night he stayed up to be sure, but she still did not wake, which concerned him.

Later into the next day, he sleepily opened a small fridge that had some meats and cheeses and he wondered how old they might be. Draco sighed and closed it, grabbing some stale bread from a tin box instead. While taking reluctant bites, he began to saunter around the tent and approached a bed with ruffled up blankets. He had purposely avoided it, assuming it was where Potter or Weasley had slept. Using his wand to nudge open the curtain, he took a peek inside, studying the space until he saw a crumpled-up jumper. Holding the rest of the bread in his mouth, he leaned to pick it up and held it high away from himself. Sure enough, it was one of those awful jumpers the Weasley clan had worn, this one with a giant 'R' in front. He scrunched his nose and dropped it immediately on top of the bed and dramatically pulled the curtain closed.

Draco turned and made his way to the back of the tent, with the thought of the Weasley family infesting his brain. They all seemed so close and something about that made him feel ill, or maybe that was the bread. He finished his last bite, mulling it over... no, it was definitely the Weasleys. Ron's mother had probably made that jumper, but even with magic, she did not possess the talent of a seamstress. Draco's mother would never let him go out wearing something so distressed and homely. The thought of his mother gave him a heavy heart. By now the Dark Lord would know he was absent and her lies would be spun like an artistic web, a proper seamstress indeed. Would his father care? Was he at all concerned by his absence? Maybe if it angered the Dark Lord...

His thoughts trailed on his last interaction with his father as he approached the bathroom. There were shelves near the bath that he had not looked at yet. He approached them; there in a dark corner, he found a pair of glasses with a plain black frame with round lenses.  _Potter. These must be his spare, he was wearing them when I saw him last, with that boiled face, so obvious._ Draco picked them up, and walked them over to the mirror and placed them on. He stared at his blurry reflection.  _Bloody hell, Potter is nearly blind. Why didn't I just knock these off his head during Quidditch?_ He moved closer to the mirror in an attempt to focus, but as he leaned in, the glasses slipped off of his nose and clinked against the sink. One round lens flopped out of the frame and rolled around the basin, clinking as it settled.

Draco gasped and pulled out his wand, "Reparo." The round glass wiggled it's way back into the frame and lay there below him.

He stared down at them and exhaled, allowing the burn of truth to suffocate his pride. They  _needed_  Potter. He picked up the glasses and delicately placed them back on the shelf where he had found them, and left the bathroom. _No one can ever know I did that._  He walked over to Hermione and checked on her again. She was breathing, but still curled up in a deep sleep.

As another day rolled by, he managed to work his way through a small bookshelf of Muggle novels. He could not decided if he actually liked them or if he was just bored. It was like a reluctant vacation, knowing you should be doing something important, but forced to do nothing and relax.

After the final chapter of the last book, he felt sleepy and made his way over the bed he claimed as his, across from hers. As he analyzed the last novel, wondering why anyone would find interest in a respectable English woman falling in love with such a pompous ass, he eventually fell asleep.

Not too long after, Hermione abruptly woke up.

Alert but groggy, she managed to sit up and peek out the curtain enclosing her bed space.

Her breath hitched when she noticed Draco lying down in the bed across from her, surprised that she had not noticed immediately. He lay on his stomach with his arms under his head, one hand holding his wand as if prepared for something. His breathing had a slow rhythm implying his deep asleep. As she watched him, she thought he appeared peaceful, less intimidating, a side of him she had never seen before.

She shifted her legs as if it were normal, then quickly remembered they had not been working since she had arrived. Excited that she might be back to her old self, she stretched, noticing a slight ache when she moved. Hanging them over the bed, she pressed her feet to the floor and slowly stood, feeling slightly wobbly. After gaining her balance she looked up to see if Draco had maybe woken up from her movement, but he was still fast asleep.

She decided to get some fresh air and have another look around this new place he had taken her. _I should really ask him where we are, after he wakes up._ Hermione took slow steps outside of the tent to a sun low in the sky.  _Why is it always sunset when I come out here?_ Turning around and studying the outside of the tent, she wondered if Draco had placed a  _Protego Totalum_  charm around campsite, as it was usually the first matter of business when she was traveling with Harry and Ron.  _He still has my wand, so I hope he did some proper spells here._  She began to make a mental list in her mind,  _Location, protection charms, and my wand_. Hermione stepped around the tent, gazing up at the high hills and dipping green valleys, contemplating on it being some sort of dream.

A noise sounded from closeby, and she turned to look up as a group of bats whizzed overhead, frightening her. With a startled shriek, the scare caused a twinge in the nerves of her legs. Without any further warning they buckled underneath her and she fell to the ground.

Inside, Draco's body flinched from hearing the sound of screams. He sat up quickly, pointing his wand out, similar to when he woke up from hearing distant screams at the manor. Looking around his eyes stopped to see Hermione's curtains open and her bed empty. He ran from one side of the tent to the other, he could not find her. Breathing hard, he stopped and looked at the tent entrance and bolted outside.

Draco did not have to step far to see Hermione on the ground near the tent. His mind was riddled with scenarios as to what had happened, but he was altogether relieved to see that she appeared alone and unharmed. He glanced around to make sure they were clear of danger, then finally looked back to her with questioning eyes.  _Did she try to escape?_

"Did you...crawl out?"

Draco assumed that since there were not snatchers or Death Eaters attacking them, that perhaps she  _was_  trying to escape. Frustrated, he stared at her for a moment, silently contemplating leaving her there.

"Do you want to hang out here or should I take you back inside?"

She glanced up for a second at his shuffled hair and perplexed grey eyes. Hermione looked away, not answering, attempting to hide her embarrassment because she knew what was next: Draco would have to pick her up to bring her back inside. So she responded by crossing her arms in defiance.

"Aren't you too old to be acting like a stubborn brat? Or maybe Bellatrix's curses got to your brain?"

Hermione remained still, with no response.

"You're acting like that sulking Moaning Myrtle..."

Hermione winced at the insult, not wanting to show that it bothered her. She then wondered how _he_  could have possibly known about the ghost who lingered in the girl's lavatory.

Draco sighed, rubbing the back of his neck to think. Maybe he shouldn't tease her because it is very possible that the curse  _had_  affected her recent actions.

Seeing that Hermione did not want to budge, Draco took charge, "Alright, Granger, I'm bringing you inside. I have questions of my own, you know... this isn't completely about you."

He had always been a good liar. Cautious that she might punch him like last time, Draco lifted her and was grateful when she did not put up a fight. She stared away from him as he brought her back inside and over to her bed again, but this time he did not walk away. Pulling up one of the stools from the table at the center, he stationed himself near her bed. He took a second to collect himself, combing his fingers through his messy hair, feeling worn and frustrated. Even after a few days, he still felt ill-adjusted to this new time-zone.

"Where do I start, Granger? The Manor?-"

Before he could continue Hermione glared up at him with a build-up of anger, "Yes, let's start at the manor,  _Malfoy_! Your bloody snatchers caught us and last I remembered, you stared at Harry and left us!"

Draco stood up, bumping the stool behind him and leaned toward her, "If I had named Potter, they would have contacted the Dark Lord immediately!" He stepped back and stared to the ground at the fallen stool. "Granger, if you even  _knew_ a little of what it is like to have the Dark Lord take over your home... fuck... I've seen hundreds of men and women tortured- they recruited me and I was in-line  _that day_  to torture people locked up in our dungeons- we had prisoners, in my home!" He took his gaze off of the stool and looked sideways at her, "Do you know what that's like? There aren't enough muffliato charms in the world to stop the sounds coming from down there! I came back in after hearing you being tortured by Bellatrix and... something in me just... snapped."

Hermione was breathing hard, gripping the sheets of the bed below her, avoiding the pity she knew would be in his eyes. The look he always had the last few times she passed him at Hogwarts, curious what could have changed in him. For the first time she had a small view into his world, and she tried once again to drown her empathy for him, the Death Eater.

Draco gave up waiting for her to respond. She was definitely more tight-lipped than he last remembered, nearly speaking her opinion to everything and verbally fighting for her beliefs. He knew he had to be the one to break this aggression between them. Draco bent to fix the stool and sat down again, this time slightly closer, noting her body leaning away at his move.

"If I am to help you, you will have to catch me up on what you three were doing."

Hermione scoffed, "Help me? Yes, maybe we should start on why it is you're helping me at all, Malfoy?"

She crossed her arms, tipped her head and raised her eyebrows waiting for his response.

Draco knew this would be something she was going to ask, but he was not ready to respond to it, so he deviated, just slightly. He dared to look at her when he answered, noting her cheeks were flush with anger, and it suited her.

"I know everyone thinks I'm a coward-"

He paused, to take in her tired stare, she was clearly not interested in the obvious, and he wondered if she also saw right through his redirect.

"I take it by your silence that you agree. That's fine, I'm not an idiot. I was just attempting to survive the best I could in my situation. I'm not an evil arsehole... though I'm pretty sure that's your opinion of me."

Feeling the need to defend herself and not let someone else tell her how she felt, she uncrossed her arms and responded, "I never thought that... an arrogant prick, maybe..."

Hermione raised her head, proud of her quip and waiting for his usual retaliation.

Draco exhaled, slightly smiling. Usually he would be offended but now, he was merely relieved that she did not see him as a direct reflection of the Dark Lord.

"Yeah, I know. Having the Dark Lord invade your home has definitely... altered my perspective.  _I am sorry_... for whatever that's worth."

He struggled to pull his eyes up to her, to see if she would accept that as his ultimate apology, for everything he had ever done.

Hermione nearly burned her fingertips as she drew circles into the quilt next to her. She paused when the pain was unbearable, and looked up at him. She nearly missed his eyes as he began to look down, but then he looked up to her again. The feeling was as strange as she thought it might be. How could this person who seemed to care so little about her all these years, sit so close to her with interest and concern? It was like she had jumped from one book to another; one with adventure and impending doom to another that had unspoken intimacy and affliction. Maybe there was more to Draco Malfoy: Slytherin student by day, Death Eater by night. Or maybe, he was up to something and was just this good at hiding it. She decided to break the deafening silence, accepting that this was the only way to find out what type of book she was in.

"Malfoy, this war has changed us all...I don't think I've become tougher because of it either..."

Hermione rubbed the side of her leg, she didn't have much else to say, unless she were to completely let him in on everything. She wondered if Harry would forgive her for breaking his trust. But her best friends were not here, and maybe if Draco had truly defected, he could help. Though, he  _could_  also take this information to the Dark Lord. So she had two ways about it: she could either shorten this journey by gaining intel from Draco Malfoy, or prolong it by exposing the Order mission to a Death Eater.

As she made eye contact with him, she felt her heart beat faster, there was something about the way he was looking at her. His eyes were drained of arrogance and instead appeared like a vagrant in search of a place to live. This alone curved her decision.

"We - Harry, Ron and I - were searching for horcruxes. We never had to actually  _kill_ anyone along the way. If anything, we were just fugitives for awhile, at least..."

"Horcruxes, for the Dark Lord?"

She nodded, watching his reaction. Would he pretending not to know, or possibly lie to get more information out of her?

Draco had always figured there was something that brought the Dark Lord back, his father refused to give him such details. He had only heard whispers about a horcrux around the manor or through his Slytherin friends,  _but multiple_?

"You get any?"

Hermione hesitated, still having a sliver of doubt nagging at her, but if it wasn't for his begging eyes, "Yes, we destroyed one and were on the lookout for more when we got caught by the snatchers. We think there are four more out there."

Contemplating on how there could be so many, Draco stared into the dark space under her bed as he responded, "Well if a snake can be a horcrux, I bet Nagini is one. She is the very essence of evil..."

Hermione could clearly sense that he had witnessed something dark. She tilted her head toward him to get his attention. "That helps, actually. Anything else you might recall from your experiences would speed up this whole process. Maybe we can save Harry and Ron and finish what we started..."

Snapping out of his reverie, Draco's eyebrow raised as he retorted, "If I am  _allowed_  to join your righteous trio..."

Hermione could not help feeling honored that he or others might think this of her, Harry and Ron. She had been so focused on accomplishing one dangerous task after another, she hardly concerned herself with what others had thought. Draco's usual grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and she felt she needed to make it slightly harder for him, "Well, I'd have to think about it. Maybe if you  _behave,_  I suppose. But we'll see what THEY think about a  _Death Eater_ joining the  _hero_ squad."

Draco liked that she had a bit of humor in her response, but quickly corrected her, "Ex-Death Eater! You literally are the main witness to my defection. If  _you_  don't believe me, I doubt anyone else will... and we aren't budging from this place until you're better."

Hermione suspiciously agreed. "Right..."

_I was passed out, I can't know what really happened. For now, I will have to take his word._

Trying to distract herself from that thought, she contemplated, "Do you think they're still stuck at the manor?"

Draco could tell she had other thoughts swirling in her brain, with suspicion being an obvious one. After years at Hogwarts, watching her interactions with peers, he picked up that she was never great at hiding her emotions, not like his Slytherin counterparts, but he continued to play along. "I hope not. My mother helped us, she might help  _them_. She isn't a bad person you know, just... like me, born into this and-"

Draco paused when Hermione's eyes found another part of the room to look at instead of him. He interpreted this as her being uninterested in his defending his mother.

"...stuck trying to survive..."

Maybe it was her lack of interest in his family but she had always been focused on even the most boring of subjects in school. Perhaps it was the curse again, altering her character.

"Never mind. You should rest and eventually eat."

Hermione looked back at him and nodded.

Draco stood up to place the stool back. "Shout if you need anything."

Hermione pulled her body back, dragging her useless legs into the bed.  _I need a lot of things,_ Hermione thought grimly, _but what can Malfoy do about it? He seems changed: no insults, no narcissistic agenda. I think that might be the longest I've ever had a civil conversation with him._

Not really knowing what time it was, but still feeling tired, she laid her head down on the pillow, mostly to think.  _What was that list of questions I had again?_   _Location...my wand_... It seemed difficult to collect thoughts lately, maybe it was the curse. Her stomach grumbled but she ignored it, she hardly felt like asking him to make her food. She let out a deep sigh, and though she tried not to let it take over her brain, she began to worry over what Harry and Ron were doing right now, and if they were still alive.


	4. Realization

For a moment after waking, Hermione forgot where she was. Slowly connecting memories back into place, she realized that she must have slept. She tested out her legs and was relieved when they worked, so she turned to step out of the bed.

She looked around and noticed Draco in the kitchen. He was standing at a counter surrounded by notebooks, cauldrons, vials, and other ingredients.

Today, he was wearing a long-sleeved, dark green shirt and jeans, which was a big contrast to his usual attire of formalwear. His hair hung down just above his light grey eyes as he concentrated on his task. Hermione could not help but notice that his eyes reflected the color of his clothing and they appeared almost green now.

He seemed totally focused on his task as he jotted down notes in a journal, the movements of his hands were swift and calculated as he plucked at ingredients.

 _I have never seen him look so focused,_ she noticed,  _are potions a passion of his? He was always decent in class but I never really knew if he received good marks. Snape always favored the Slytherins..._

She slowly made her way over, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She pulled back her messy hair into a ponytail and smoothed out the front of her shirt, accepting that it would have to be good enough. She was looking forward to having a shower.

Leaning onto the counter across from him, careful not to touch anything, she queried, "Making something?"

She could not help noticing the way he handled the vials, how he nibbled his inner lip when in concentration, how he rubbed the tips of his fingers over his nail beds nervously when studying the journal, how-  _Stop. Why does any of that matter? Just stop analyzing him and act normal!_

Having seen her approach from the corner of his eye, Draco was unsurprised by her presence. He finished what he was writing and glanced up to answer, "Yes, making something to help  _you_. Your legs seem to be failing. It could happen again. You'd have to take small amounts at a time, maybe regularly."

She looked sleepy to him; it was strangely intimate to see her from this perspective, almost like a fresh start at seeing each other uninhibited. Over the last few days he had seen Granger slightly battered. It was a change from the put-together Hermione he was used to from school. The bright light hanging over them revealed a hint of amber in her brown eyes. Only seconds had passed in reality, but he swiftly grew paranoid of how long he had been looking at her, quickly looking back down to his notebook in an attempt to focus on his work.

Hermione had not expected anyone to be making a special potion just for her, but especially not Draco Malfoy. It felt out of place. She felt the need to say something even if she was unsure about it all, "Oh, thank you..."

Draco could sense her hesitance as her eyes scanned the table full of ingredients. She would be the type of person who would request a portfolio of someone she was about to purchase potions from. He stopped what he was doing, feeling that he needed to give her just that, or at least what he had.

"I have a whole lab at the manor that Professor Snape helped me set up, one of the few things I miss about that place. He and I agree that Hogwarts books are almost always wrong, but they're too stubborn to update those ancient potion recipes."

Hermione nodded, while disbelief tinged her thoughts as she realized that she and Malfoy shared the same strong opinion. "I figured they were incorrect... when I tried to brew a Draught of Living Death in Slughorn's class, I did  _everything_  that bleeding book said to do and  _still_  got it wrong!"

Still busy with his work, Draco replied with a soft smirk, "And Hermione Granger is  _never_  wrong."

She responded with a slight smile of her own. "Well, rarely..."

His smirk grew and he shook his head as he looked up at her, "And you think  _I'm_  arrogant, huh?"

Hermione's heart raced as she recalled her recent insult. Feeling caught, she tried her best to find something to throw back at him, meanwhile he smiled proudly for his little victory.

"Well just as I am rarely wrong, I have rarely seen you smile."

Draco nodded, acknowledging the truth in her statement. "There's not usually much to smile about I suppose..."

He had brought their sassy cat-and-mouse banter back into their current reality. Hermione glanced up at him, wondering all that he had seen. The short silence made Hermione feel as if she were at a graveyard mourning a friend, so she attempted to change the subject.

She stared at the cauldron he was tampering with, noticing the potion he was brewing had an earthy-foul smell, like Crookshanks' paws after he had buried something questionable outside.

"So, do you have the  _talent_ to make that potion taste better? I mean, if it  _is_  something I will need to consume regularly?"

Shaking his head at her 'talent' comment, he thought,  _She just can't bear to admit that I might be good at something_. He understood the distrust, but the skill? Academically, he was always at her heels in school, so it ate at his pride that maybe she didn't even notice.

While the his past self would have snapped back with a harsh put-down in an instant, Draco had no wish to fall back on his old ways and incite an argument between them. He had changed, and he was desperate for Hermione to see that.

"I'll see what I can do."

Hermione was surprised at his unaggressive response, it was unlike him and it forced her to confront that there was more going on than  _just_ trust here. She glanced to the back of the tent and thought it a good time to clean up, before he noticed that she might smell as bad as that potion.

"I think I will go shower, can I have my purse now?"

Draco paused what he was doing to perform a wandless spell, and her purse floated over to her. Hermione took this as showing off his wandless magic, or was that supposed to scare her?

He went back to his cauldron and without looking up from his work, asked, "Do you think you can accio without your wand?"

She felt caught again; he must have noticed that she had trouble using her own wandless magic earlier, perhaps he believed she could not do any at all. She also understood this to mean he would not be returning her wand. She was washed over with the familiar rival between them.  _The nerve of him, not trusting me!_

Pressing her lips together, determined to prove she was a stronger witch, she decided on a simple test. "Accio toothbrush."

To her relief, a blue toothbrush sprung out of her purse and she quickly grabbed it.

She glanced up at Draco with a self-assured nod, as he leered back at her for her small victory. Before he could possibly ruin it, she walked proudly back to the back of the tent to the bathroom.

At the sound of the door clicking closed behind her, and wishing there was a lock, Hermione quickly snapped out of her proud moment and scrambled like a scavenger through her bag. While she had the power, she called for her most important items to ensure they were safe.

"Accio locket." To her relief the broken locket popped-out and she placed it aside on the floor. Next she called for her portkeys, but nothing happened. She tried again and again but to no avail. To prove her wandless magic wasn't faulty she called for something else. "Accio photo." Then as if a gentle breeze had come from her bag, a photograph of her parents wisped out. She watched as it floated slightly, as her parents appeared to be looking right at her. She reached for it and exhaled.

She allowed a small moment to feel sorry for herself, then gently placed the photo next to the locket on the ground. Hermione paused and moved the photo away from the locket to give them some space. She glared at the locket, then went back to her purse. She clenched her jaw for the missing portkeys, also shaped like toothbrushes.  _He must have known why my first wandless magic was for a toothbrush. Did he rummage through everything? I wasn't going to leave! Well, not yet... Harry and Ron were always too scared to look through my purse, probably worried to find feminine products. But, Draco looking at my personal stuff? So embarrassing!_

To be certain, she plunged her hand into the bag and made a last attempt to find the portkeys. Nothing. She sighed and gave up, placing the locket and the photo of her parents back into the bag, before calling for something new. "Accio shampoo."

After locating other items needed for her shower, she scolded herself for not turning on the faucet sooner. She had found out, when she and Harry were avoiding the use of magic for mundane tasks, that it took a while for it to heat up. Then it also occurred to her that she would probably have a small window of time for the heat to last. She wondered if Draco had already figured that out, or if he had been using magic. The image of him taking a shower appeared in her mind and she found herself feeling warm, though the water was still cool. She studied the inside of the shower, feeling slightly invaded that they would both have been naked in the same space, though at different times.  _What would everyone think? 'I shared a bathroom with Draco Malfoy.' 'I slept in a tent with Draco Malfoy.' 'I was saved by Draco Malfoy.' No one will believe me._

She shook her head at the thought of explaining this to anyone. Testing the water and finding it 'warm-enough', she stepped in. The shower felt like luxury after the last few days, wondering how many had actually passed since she had arrived in this place.  _My list, yes: where are we. Maybe this shower will revive me, must ask him. I keep getting distracted_. Malfoy had clearly transported them to another country, based off the high mountains and change in daylight. The sun seemed to set in a different direction, or was her internal navigation just off? After the trauma of Malfoy manor followed by what felt like a long rest, her natural schedule was seriously convoluted.  _It's not like I need to get up for class, sadly._

As she got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, she noticed the sink area already contained some of Draco's personal items: notably, a toothbrush and spearmint-flavored toothpaste. Curiosity seized her, because whether at her parents' dental practice or the magical world, the most common flavor was peppermint or wintergreen. It had been awhile since she had seen  _spearmint_  flavor, though she preferred it herself. It wasn't completely odd, but different enough for her to notice.

She flashed back to Professor Slughorn's class at the beginning of sixth year when she first smelled Amortentia, and recalling the smell of spearmint, apples, and jasmine.

Chalking it up to coincidence, she decided to borrow the toothpaste as she only had a little left anyway, having shared a single tube between herself, Ron, and Harry. Setting the toothpaste tube down, her eyes glanced over to what looked like a bottle of cologne. It had no label but, like most cologne bottles, it had a spray top.

Picking it up, she lifted it to her nose to smell it, confirming her theory that it was most likely his cologne. As she inhaled the smell, she could not help but breathe deeply and smell it again. It calmed her and made her excited in the same moment. Then it hit her: the distinct smell in that bottle of cologne was  _jasmine_. Hermione looked up into the mirror above the sink and stared back at her reflection wanting to make the connection already halfway-forming in her mind, she began creating excuses.  _What am I doing? Anyway, doesn't all men's cologne contain jasmine? Although, I remember the smell of Ron and no jasmine. I traveled with Harry and he didn't smell of jasmine either..._

Almost subconsciously, she smelled his cologne again before finally forcing herself to put it down, mentally chastising herself for overthinking again. While in the mist of one denial, another one she could not ignore came in the form of a tingling sensation in her legs. Recognizing it for what it was, she shuffled over to the edge of the shower to sit down.  _Crap, my purse is on the ledge of the sink!_

"Accio purse."

Nothing happened.

She tried again, "Accio purse!"

Again, nothing.

She concluded there must be a correlation between her legs giving out and her wandless magic. "Bugger."

With a sigh, she was thankful that at least she had a towel around her and was sitting safely this time. She could have been in a worse state when asking for Draco's help. Resting her head on the palm of her hand, already embarrassed for what she would have to do, she resigned herself to the task and called, "Malfoy?"

She waited; perhaps he hadn't heard her. Without much thought behind it, and using a similar impatience to speaking Ron's full name, she shouted much louder, "Draco?" This somehow felt more intimate than sharing a bathroom with him, hopefully he heard it this time.

Hearing his name, Draco's heart leapt.  _Did she just call my name - my first name? She must be in serious danger. The last person to call me that was my mother. I'd better get over there... but wait, she's showering, is this a trick? Oh Merlin, what if she fell and she isn't dressed? ...I mean-_

Before he allowed his thoughts to take him to another place, he jogged over to the back of the tent toward the bathroom.

Hermione waited, wondering if he had heard her this time. Nervously, she worried,  _He's going to tease me about this for sure!_   _Maybe he's doing this on purpose_.  _Maybe I'll just live in here._   _Maybe he'll check on me after a few hours and I'll act like I wanted to be in here that long. Ugh, okay, one more time..._

She took a breath, about to call his name again when she heard him outside the door, "Hey, you alright?"

Hermione was relieved but hesitant, hating that she needed to ask him for help once again. "Can you come in here, to help me?"

Opening the door, Draco found Hermione on the ledge of the bath with only a towel wrapped around her. Her hair was pulled to one side, still dripping wet over her bare shoulders. She reminded him of one of those models in a Muggle magazine he had once seen, poised, proud, and petulant. He made his best effort not to stare even through the steam. _In the name of Salazar's ghost, is she doing this on purpose?_  There was a scent of vanilla but also with a fruit in the mix, possibly cherry, and he assumed it was from her shampoo. The scent gave him déjà vu, but the feeling was cut short when Hermione spoke, "Sorry to bother you, but my legs went out again... I've noticed that when it happens, I can't use wandless magic for some reason. Do you mind handing me my purse?"

Draco took note of her disgruntled politeness, probably because of her compromising situation. He nodded, taking a step toward the sink and reaching out to hand her the bag.

"Thanks. Um, I'm going to get dressed but... can you come back in about five minutes to help me back out of here?"

He nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. When not in the presence of a towel-clad Hermione, he was able to concentrate again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the the smell that creeped out of the bathroom door. He strain his mind, and was able to collect the déjà vu again from the cherry vanilla scent.  _It was her!_

Draco clearly recalled this scent because not only had he smelled it in Professor Slughorn's class, but also again when he had replicated Amortentia in his own lab at home. He thought he might even have a vial of it in his bag because after he learned a potion on his own, he kept a small amount as a kind of trophy. Rushing over to the kitchen counter, he opened up a small trunk with little labeled drawers worn from use, thanking Merlin his mother had thought to pack it all. He pulled out the one that read 'Amortentia'. Carefully popping open the small vial, he inhaled the scent, his eyes dilating and his mind flooding with endorphins.

_Old parchment, vanilla and cherry..._

Anytime he smelled this potion, it had the same three scents and he often indulged himself regularly to calm him. He had always suspected, but it was not until now that he could confirm:  _Granger._

He had until now, only imagined that the potion was revealing his desire for her. Something about being in a place where the proof was now slapping him in the face, made him weak in the knees. He reflected all the days at Hogwarts where he noticed her using an older book instead of new, wondering if it was by choice or her family status in the Muggle world. Though, time and time again, missing by mere seconds to turn in his assignments before her, he took note of her well organized, aged parchment. He would be a mere footsteps behind her as she turned her assignment in, handing it to the Professor like a lost relic. This was not status. This was by choice. Like the choice to use cherry-vanilla shampoo that was wafted toward him as she quickly whipped around after proudly dropping off her assignment.  _Did she even notice I was there?_ Now he fully understood why he was unconsciously excited for assignments in classes they shared. Though Draco always understood his interest in her and he had always hid it.

After placing the potion vial back neatly in its drawer, he immediately knew what to add to her potion to make it taste better and hoped he had the right ingredients. He moved quickly, as he was sure five minutes had already passed and he should be going back to help her out of the bathroom. Finishing up the potion, he poured it into a vial and placed it on the counter. He stared at it proudly. Then he changed his mind and grabbed the nicest tea cup the tent had to offer and poured it in there instead. 


	5. Proposition

Draco headed back to the bathroom and knocked twice on the door. "Are you  _decent,_  Granger?"

He heard her muffled response through the door, "Yes, you can come in."

Draco opened the door to find her in the same spot, only now she was dressed in a light blue shirt and jeans. Her hair was still wet.

"Ready?"

Hermione responded with a nod and Draco picked her up in the same way he had the previous two times. She kept her head low, trying again not to concentrate on how comfortable she felt against him. She could smell jasmine, but this time it somehow smelled warmer. Everytime he lifted her, she was pleased to notice that it did not seem to take him much effort to carry her. After days of being in the same space as him, it was only now that she allowed herself to admit that he had become taller and visibly stronger than when she last saw him at school.

He carefully walked her sideways through the doorway and deposited her at the bench along the kitchen counter. Once she was settled, he reached for the worn tea cup at the counter.

In that small moment, as she watched him, the kitchen light revealed a darker patch on his shirt where her wet hair must have soaked into the fabric. Something about that made her feel strange, as if the vulnerable moments in his arms weren't torture enough, there was now a reminder of the event marked on his chest. She also experienced a passing thought that it might bother him. In the past, Draco had expressed that anything touching him like that, from a Muggleborn, would be received with disdain.

"Here, I think this will help."

Hermione was surprised to find a tea cup in his hands but took it from him anyway. She inspected the liquid and then looked up at him, for one last analysis on her trust. She figured that they had come this far, and if he wanted to bring her or the Order down, the Imperius curse was probably the way to go. On the other hand, this  _was_  some custom potion he had brewed so she resolved to take caution and daringly took a small sip. She was somewhat shocked that it tasted like cherry and vanilla instead of the foul smell from before.  _How did he know I liked this flavor?_ She waited a few seconds but nothing drastic had happened.

"Not bad, Malfoy. Did you just happen to have these flavors?"

Feeling pleased with himself, Draco went back to where his potions were still spread across the counter. He grabbed some small square packets and held them up to show her, "I have a few flavor packets that came with a potions kit."

Hermione was definitely impressed by his assertion but  _a few?_  This must be his attempt at sarcasm because there were multiple flavor packets on the counter, so she could not hold back the suspicion on him choosing those exact ones. Why not choose chocolate, or grape, or even as a prank, ear wax? It was all there, a multitude of packets spilling out from a Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Bean brand Potion Palate box that looked as if it were freshly opened.

"Oh, well they happen to be two of my favorite flavors, I thought maybe you got the idea from rummaging through my bag."

"Granger, your Portkeys are safe," he assured her, rolling his eyes, "I couldn't risk you leaving with your injuries. I mean, case-in-point you couldn't even get out of the bathroom... and, I didn't filter through your personal items, I only used accio to get the Portkeys, I promise."

Hermione only looked up at him in disbelief.  _He can't 'risk' me leaving? I can't simply believe he happened to flavor the potion with my two favorite- Unless- did he notice my hair had that scent from before? Is he really THAT observant? What else has he observed?_

Feeling distinctly self-conscious, she began to wish for a change in subject. Thankfully, Draco seemed to feel the same way. "Well, believe me or not, I'm glad you enjoy the flavors. I suppose you're hungry by now. Shall I also  _cook_  for you, too?"

Hermione understood his tone, be grateful. Trying to control her manners, she bit back the many comments flying through her brain. "Yes please, I would appreciate that."

Clearing up the vials and bottles he had left out, Draco packed up his potions lab. That being done, he began the search for food. "So, care for a sandwich? I noticed some leftovers. You know, depending on how long we'll be here, I might have to get more supplies. I remember there being a small town nearby, I could pop into a store and get more food."

_He would go shopping?_

Hermione attempted to be polite, "Whatever is available here is fine with me."

Draco nodded, taking out some bread and other ingredients. As he assembled her sandwich, he glanced up at her for approval of his ingredients choices, though she seemed distracted. Figuring she could take it apart if she did not care for it, he put together something he hoped she would like.

"So look, I can tell you still don't fully trust me-"

Turning back to him, Hermione raised an eyebrow at this.

"Hey, I get it. For good reason-but I figured, the only way I can  _gain_  your trust is for me to take some veritaserum."

Staring in disbelief, Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I, umm... well... really? I mean- I admit, I would feel better, but is that something you alreadyhave? Because that can take up to a month to brew."

She glanced over to his collection of potions, noticing that some vials had been labeled with images such as a snake or a bat. There were some that she recognized as standard bottles the Professors had at Hogwarts, but some looked worn with use with ancient symbols faded into the glass. It immediately made her think that they were a Malfoy family heirloom passed on to the young heir.

"I do, actually... and yes, it  _does_  take awhile to make."

When she tilted her head at him as if in thought, Draco knew exactly what she was thinking.

"I have the ingredients, Granger, if you want to make your own. I'm just suggesting you try mine now, to extinguish any suspicions. If you're still unsure after this, your batch will be in progress and I'd be willing to take it again... and yes, you can have your wand back to finish the potion."

"Oh, you'll grant me my wand will you?"

Draco chuckled lightly, "Yes, Granger, I will. Though I won't be able to give you potion for your legs if you decide to leave, and who knows what will happen if you try to Disapparate in your state."

" _If_ your potion works..."

He shrugged, knowing there was a chance that nothing would come of it, or that it might only partially work.

"True, but as you haven't hit me the last few times I've carried you, I figured, good behavior and all."

This, Hermione knew, was another reminder of him helping her.  _Maybe I'll surprise him._ She tried to hold her thoughts back, and play along so that at least she could get her wand back and have some control again.

"You wouldn't mind me using all of your tools?"

"Go right ahead," he offered, "believe it or not,  _I_  happen to trust  _you_."

Hermione looked away, to keep hold of her thoughts again,  _Maybe because I was never a bloody Death Eater!_ Though she knew enough from class, that if someone who took Veritaserum was a great Occlumens, they could possibly resist answering the questions. She turned back to Draco and gave him a quick assessment and thought her chances were on her side. He was far too young to have discovered such a talent yet, even though he had the right character for it.

"Okay, after I eat I'll have a go at it. I'll still need the spell to glance at, but I recall most of it from reading in class."

Draco gave out a short laugh and a smirk, "Ha! I bet you do,  _swot_."

"Oh right, and  _you_  can talk!"she bickered, scowling. She flung her hand out to display all of his potions and tools on the counter.

Draco grinned and knew she had won that little battle but continued, "Okay, but  _you_  weren't the only 'Outstanding' student at Hogwarts, you know... you were just the most  _obnoxious_  about it."

Hermione gasped, "I can't help it if I was enthusiastic about my studies! After all, I didn't have something like Quidditch to fall back on."

Draco placed the sandwich he had made on a plate and aggressively pushed it toward Hermione, "Oh, so you're of the opinion that Quidditch is meant for the thick or something?"

Hermione caught the plate before it slid off the table, glanced at the sandwich, then back up to him, "I didn't  _say_  that, you must have come to your  _own_ conclusions."

"You never have to _say_  anything Granger, your _face_  gives it all away."

Hermione blushed at his call-out of her character flaw. Picking up an empty vial labeled with an image of a snake etched into the glass, she held it up and showed it to him. "Well, I am not akin to being sneaky,  _like others_."

Draco looked at the vial, knowing she was making a reference to his being in Slytherin, "Right, because Slytherins are only  _just_  sneaky, as I'm certain Gryffindors are only  _just_  brave. Granger, they are house characteristics laid down by the Hogwarts founders, that a bloody hat sorted us in to!"

Having overheard Draco insult Hogwarts traditions many times before, Hermione, "Having regrets about your house placement?"

Draco gave a light, superficial laugh, "No- I am probably the  _exact_  description of a Slytherin, but I'd like to think there's more to someone than what house they were sorted into.  _By a hat_."

Hermione tilted her head as she pondered his words. Being Muggle-born, everything in the magical world had seemed a novelty to her at one point or another, but she enjoyed it all the same. Draco was brought up in this world so it made her curious on what other magical traditions he did not agree with. "It's like zodiac signs, I suppose."

Hermione examined the sandwich in front of her and finally dared to take a bite, it was actually good. This somehow put herself in a different perspective.  _Draco Malfoy just made me food._

Draco nodded in agreement to her zodiac comment but stayed quiet. Silence settled awkwardly between them; as neither was accustomed to agreeing with one another, it was a strange and unexpected feeling.

He finally broke the silence, "So, before I take this serum, I'd like to lay out some rules..."

He paused to look at her. She was studying her food, taking pre-planned bites, nibbling away cautiously as if she had never had a sandwich before. Though, he secretly found it endearing and was proud that she did not find it disgusting.

Realizing he was waiting for a response, Hermione quickly swallowed the food in her mouth, and shortly replied, "Go on..."

So Draco continued has he sliced his own sandwich in half with a sharp knife, "A standard dose of Veritaserum is meant to last for one hour. I'll only answer twenty questions, which you can write down on parchment for me to pre-approve. That way  _you_  don't get carried away." At this moment, he was pointing the sharp end of the knife at her for emphasis.

Hermione stared back at him, refusing to let him think that she felt threatened by that, as she finished her chewing on her food. "Okay. I mean, I really don't want to know  _all_  the private workings of your mind, if that is what you're worried about."

This was a small lie, but she tried her best not to show it.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't Granger," he sneered.

Hermione recognized that he was implying something, whether it be dangerous or sexual, she but ignored it for now.

"Alright. Deal," she agreed. Out of sheer habit when making any type of deal, she set down her sandwich and held out her hand to shake his.

Draco recognized this as a Muggle way of approving of agreements as he's seen it in passing. Though, he did not really understand the point, as it was clearly not as serious as an unbreakable vow. Nevertheless, as he looked down at her outstretched fingers, he decided to take part in this odd ritual and grasped her hand, mimicking her.

"Deal."

He noticed her handshake was firm, which he liked, as it showcased her confidence. It was also impossible for him not to notice how nicely her hand fit into his.

When Draco did not let go immediately, Hermione thought it likely that this was the first time he had done this. Then she quickly realized, that this was the first time she had held Draco's hand at all. Usually when men shook her hand, their grip was overly gentle, but Draco was not; possibly it was because he was unused to this Muggle custom, or maybe he did not see her as someone he should be gentle with. Perhaps both, or perhaps neither.

When Hermione loosened her grip, Draco understood that the gesture was over. Satisfied that he had done it correctly, he then lifted his sandwich to his mouth and took a bite. He noticed her tracing the rim of her plate with her finger tips, probably thinking again, so he swallowed his bit and got her attention "Eat up, you have work to do." 


	6. Speculation

After they had both eaten, Hermione stood and walked over to her bed. Annoyed that she had not acknowledged that his potion had clearly done its job in giving her back the use of her legs, Draco decided to wait, just in case she was merely forgetting. It was hard not to gloat or annoy her, but as he was about to give her wand back, he did not want to be on her bad side.

Draco rummaged through his bag for sheets of parchment, he found some old and some new, and it gave him an idea. For his own internal experiment, he placed a pile of new parchment and two sheets of old parchment on the counter with a quill pen between them. He would bet his family's fortune on which parchment she would choose.

"Here are your supplies, and your wand, let me know when you're done." He shuffled away to allow her space while she came up with her questions.

As Hermione approached the elaborate display of vials and ingredients, she scanned everything Draco left out on the counter and quickly grabbed her wand. She was so relieved to have it back in her hands, it made her mind flood with so many things she should do with it.  _Okay, calm down, just make the potion first, write some questions, get what you can out of him. Then, if he is difficult, I'll be prepared._

Hermione waited for Draco to make himself busy elsewhere, as if she needed privacy to rummage through his things, even though he had already given her permission. Once she was sure he had left, she began by opening a bulky case, to find a series of little drawers meticulously labeled.

 _He must have spent years collecting these items... I've never even heard of some of these, and who knows where he got them._ Her eyes were drawn to a little drawer that had an image of fingers with their bones sticking out. Another depicted an eyeball, and still another was labeled with what she thought might be a tongue. The wording below was illegible, but she hardly needed it. She gulped,  _Well, I'm not opening those._

Feeling disgusted, she scanned the rest that looked to have newer labels and did a double-take when she recognized some of the names.  _Why are these drawers labeled with peoples' names? 'P. Parkinson, B. Zabini, B. Lestrange, V. Crabbe Jr., R. Weasley, H. Granger-'_

The moment she saw it, she wrenched opened the drawer and found - there was to no mistake - strands of her own hair.

_Is that... my hair!? He keeps MY hair in his drawer? Where did he get that? WHEN did he get that? Recently? In my sleep?_

She glanced up to where Draco lay sprawled on the couch near the entrance of the tent, his nose in a book. She then looked back to the case.

To be absolutely sure, she opened the drawer labeled ' _R. Weasley'_. There was no mistaking Ron's vibrant Weasley hair. Sure enough, the drawer contained several short strands of straight, coppery hair.

 _This is just creepy,_ she decided. Then, another thought occured,  _Was he going to use polyjuice to turn into us? HAS HE ALREADY? Is he experimenting on our DNA, like some mad scientist?_

Just when her trust had begun to peek out like a turtle from its shell, finding the collection of hair had her curling back in for safety. She put the items back, thinking she would confront him later about that, leaving it there as proof. It was all too important now to create her own veritaserum, even if she had to wait.  _Wouldn't he know that I would find this collection of hair? Did he think I would be okay with that? What is his game here? Maybe he forgot? No, Draco is too clever to forget. He's sneaky,maybe he wanted me to find it... but why? I should address this in the questions I ask him._

With that thought in mind, she turned back to the task of making her potion. Moving on to his pile of journals, she wondered how he could be so trusting as to share them with her. At a glance, Hermione estimated there were about forty thin, black journals, all identical, and stacked and labeled. She filtered through them until she found one that read ' _Veritaserum'_. The list of ingredients was on the first page, with in depth notes about the measurements on the following pages. Every detail had been painstakingly itemized: what it did, measurements to adjust for length of time as related to potion efficacy, strength, and more.

For a moment, she speculated that he might have stolen these notebooks from a greater witch or wizard, except that she recognized Draco's handwriting. She had often seen the snarky notes Draco had flung to Harry during class, and those matched this handwriting exactly. Hermione slid her finger across the inked script; his handwriting appeared like it was meant to be messy.

She analyzed the closely connected letters, noticing that some lines jetted out dramatically more than others, on the verge of being illegible but in a controlled way that made it just possible enough to read.

 _His handwriting really reflects his character_ , she mused.  _Okay, I need to stop analyzing him and get this potion done._

Opening the veritaserum notebook, she found it easy to follow and assumed he must have somehow tested it on someone or even himself to make these types of calculations on time and reaction. She had never known anyone to be so intricate; even the Half-Blood Prince's potions textbook had not been this elaborate.

 _These notes would really help students, he could publish these and-_ Hermione tried her best not to think so positively of Draco, even though she has been discovering so many good traits about him lately. _No, he had creepy things in his box, and I should question everything._

Hermione got to work as soon as she could because Veritaserum was one of those fussy potions that took a while before it was ready. She found a fresh cauldron and collected all the ingredients she needed and began measuring things out, she needed it to be perfect. She wondered if Draco would noticed if it was not, would he come over here and inspect it?

After a portion was complete, she needed to let it stew so she decided to start writing down some questions as they were already crowding in her mind.

Taking note of the writing tools Draco had laid out on the counter, she grabbed the quill and the older parchment paper. She brought the paper to her nose and took a deep breath. She missed that smell. It flashed her back to Hogwarts.

Hermione spent the rest of the day and into the evening avoiding Draco, so she could devote all her concentration on the potion and which questions would be most important. She glanced up to see what he was up to, but she did not want to appear too curious.  _Is he reading? Does Draco Malfoy read novels?_

She shook her head and began to think of questions again. Mostly, questions that pertain to the mission, to prove that he was actually Draco Malfoy, not under polyjuice potion, though everything, besides his new found kindness toward her, seemed to measure up.

Which lead her to more thoughts, maybe it is Draco Malfoy but he's not truly a defector and this is all a ploy, to be nice, to get information.

Her mind nagged at her to jot down some personal questions but she reflected on the agreement. He could deny them before he drank the potion.  _These are meant to tell the truth and gain trust, for the cause- for the Order._ Though, she could not deny that this is also personal and in many ways this would confront lingering and unspoken issues between them.

The next morning, after having a bite to eat, passing Hermione every once in a while, noticing her deep concentration. As if he was not there at all, and wondered if she was like this in the Gryffindor common room when she studied for class, pacing, reading, ignoring her surroundings.

Draco went back to the front of the tent and plopped himself on the couch and skimmed the small bookshelf beside it. He took one off, and flipped through it, but sneaking a glance at her pacing and jotting things down made him slightly anxious. What was taking her so long?

He was glad he had stipulated that he had to approve the questions first. He had worried she might disagree with that.

He had tested his own potion with Blaise and knew all too well, that under  _Veritaserum,_ one can blather on without restraint _._ Both he and Blaise now officially knew far too much about one another. It had taken a week for either of them to even be on speaking terms again.

She walked near the front of the tent, and he paused, thinking she was going to say something, but instead she turned back around, jotting another item on the parchment.  _Maybe the questions she has are really intense, I wouldn't put it past her._

She seemed to be walking well today, no issues. Perhaps his potion cured her, even if she still has not mentioned it, which ate away at Draco. He really wanted to gloat about it, but held back.

Hermione went to check on her potion, adding one last item before it needed sit and stew. After, she finished writing her last question. Holding the old parchment out to review. Not only was she satisfied with her questions, but the order in which she wrote them.

Then she took out the already made Veritaserum from Draco's collection and lifted the small vial high near the hanging light to read the small print,  _Veritaserum. Time-1 hour, Strength-Average_.

Finally, she called over to Draco, "Okay, I'm ready. Are you?"

Draco's head perked up when he heard her voice again, and he stood from the couch, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he strode over. She left the counter and was now seated at the table and he hesitantly took a seat on across from her. She was sitting proudly with the old piece of parchment with scribbled questions on it. He glanced over to the counter where the new parchment sat, untouched. Yet, another thing he could gloat about.

"Alright, Granger, let me take a look at these questions."

Draco scanned them over and saw that she had not tried to play any sort of tricks.  _This is it? Easy, as long as I'm brief_.

Draco took comfort in the thought that Hermione Granger had always appeared honest with no ulterior motives, which is refreshing. Any Slytherin would have written down obnoxiously personal questions, then would have strayed from them once he had drunk the serum anyway, as he and Blaise had done that one time. He trusted, and somehow knew, that Hermione would not do any of this.

She was clearly anxious to begin, as she tapped her fingers on the table. Dangling the small vial of clear serum in front of him, she queried, "Ready?"

Sliding her questions back across the table, he mustered up his confidence and replied, "Okay, on with it."


	7. Truth

Grabbing the serum, Draco looked back at Hermione, "I can only assume  _this_  is actually veritaserum and not something else?"

Hermione considered this. "Oh I see,  _I'm_ the one not to trust right? Malfoy, I don't have any other motives but to hear the truth and I wouldn't waste time like that. We have a war to fight..."

Draco rolled his eyes, but saw that she was watching him closely. Holding her gaze, he sipped the potion. He had anticipated the serum to be tasteless, but instead, he tasted something he had never added to his vial before: a hint of spearmint.

 _She added flavor? Wow, I'm impressed. Did she notice my toothpaste flavor? Did she just decide to do something nice for me?_ A moment later, he was struck with another thought, _Or maybe she can prove I drank it if my breath smells like-Wait, maybe she thinks I have bad breath. Crap._ He glanced up to notice her watching him.  _Okay,_   _I need to focus and try not ramble._ Setting the emptied vial on the table in front of him, Draco made himself comfortable and awaited her questions.

Hermione glanced at the vial to confirm he drank it, then back to study him. She almost expected him to act differently now that he had taken it, though he appeared only slightly fidgety. He rubbed the pad of his finger over the bed of his nails as she had seen him do before. She could not decide if it indicated his nervousness, or his concentration. Remembering she only had an hour to ask him all her questions, she began, "Ready? Let's get started. Question 1: What is your name?"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"What school did you attend last?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Who are your parents?"

"Narcissa Black Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy."

"What is your favorite color?"

"Green, but not just Slytherin green, a lot of different shades of green..."

Draco could feel himself saying too much, _Ugh, she doesn't care about your shades of green, keep it together!_

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the detailed answer, which seemed slightly out of character for him.

"What is your favorite food?"

"There are a lot of things I like, but when I'm hungry, my go-to is an apple."

Hermione paused at this mention of one of the three smells from her Amortentia scent. She stored the fact away in her memory, resolving to think on it later. For now, she knew she needed to continue with her questions.

Draco noticed her pause, which he thought strange, considering his answer.  _Why is that so strange? I like apples... is that weird to her?_

"Your favorite potion?"

"Felix Felicis: the ingredients are hard to come by, not to mention I could use some luck these days..."

_Is there no controlling myself? Keep it together, man..._

Hermione grinned, he was visibly uncomfortable. His serum must be top-quality to make him open up like that. She wished he would just say what was on his mind more often, as maybe they would not bicker so much.

"Have you ever cheated on an exam?"

"No."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his answer, not because she thought he would have needed to cheat, but because school rumors had implied that he and his Slytherin buddies had stolen homework from other students. His answer made her feel a bit ashamed to have believed rumors, especially since she and Harry had been the subject of so many before.

"What form does your patronus take?"

"I've never attempted that charm, but I have always been curious. I figured it would probably be a dragon."

Draco chastised himself again, S _top babbling and just answer the questions!_

At first, Hermione was surprised, but then remembered that only Harry had really taken the time to teach his friends how to conjure a patronus charm. She really was hoping to get that answer, supposing it would would be a ferret, dragon or a snake.

"Have you ever used my hair in polyjuice potion?"

"No."

Draco was aware of the likelihood that she had found the stash of hair he had collected in his case. He had known she would, and had taken the chance that she might be angry with him for it. To his surprise, she seemed calm about it so far. The truth was, that while he did have a batch of polyjuice potion in his collection, it was strictly for emergencies and he only kept it around because his mother had insisted. It was one of the few potions he possessed that he had never made or tested before.

"How long have you been working for You-Know-Who?"

"I was sixteen when I received this dark mark." Rolling up his sleeve, Draco revealed the dark skull and snake tattooed against his pale forearm, then quickly covered it back up.

Hermione could not help but feel a bit bothered by it, after all, his aunt had the same mark on her arm.

Though, Draco was not as malicious as his aunt, at least that she knew of. Seeing it imprinted on him reminded her of where he had come from, and she attempted not to think in detail of all that he has seen.

Her next question made her nervous but she tried keep their interaction quick and factual. Though, what would she do if he answered, yes? He did approve of these questions, so he must already know what he would answer.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No."

Hermione internally felt relieved. She had been nervous to ask that question out of fear that Draco had actually followed through any Death Eater's orders of killing Muggles or Muggleborns.

"Do you know where any of You-Know-Who's horcruxes are?"

"I don't know for  _sure_  of any, though I suspect his pet snake, Nagini, could be one of them."

"Do you intend to help Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"Yes."

Hermione had to take a deep breath for the next question. She admitted to herself that she almost did not want to know this answer, especially if the answer was going to be 'yes'.

"Do you dislike Muggles?"

"No."

It was an easy answer for Draco, but apparently not for Hermione. She kept her face low and focused on her parchment. He had an inkling of what she was thinking, especially how her next question left a sharp bite in her voice.

"Did you look through the things in my bag?"

"No."

Hermione was hoping to catch him on that one. The next question she honestly had no idea what the answer would be, but she had already prepared a defense for why she would ask it. It would show his connection to other people, or lack of it, or so she would argue.

"Have you ever been in a romantic relationship?"

"No."

She moved quickly on to the next question, pretend she was not too interested in that last answer.

"What is your greatest fear?"

"That the darkness is the only way forward for me."

There was a pause and for a moment, all was quiet. Hermione suddenly felt that maybe this little interrogation was more private than expected. She only assumed he knew the answers ahead of time, and expected all of them to be yes or no answers, then she could make a quick judgement on trusting Draco Malfoy. This was not the case.

Draco squinted slightly at his own answer. Though he had known that question was coming, having seen it on her list beforehand, he had assumed his answer would simply be  _Lord Voldemort_. Clearly his subconscious had a different truth.

Hermione tilted her head inquisitively; it was not an actual question but the serum seemed to force an explanation from Draco regardless.

"Remember Defense class in third year, when Professor Lupin had that boggart we were meant to fight?... Well, on my turn everything went black. The only thing I could see, from the corner of my eye, were other students together, pointing. They were pointing towards the darkness, as if to banish me to it... Except  _you_  Granger: you were turned around, maybe avoiding me. When I tried turn to see everyone, I saw only blackness." He shook his head, "You know, that little moment before you enter a dark room, before you can turn on a light, where you have no idea what's ahead of you? Have you ever noticed that split-second of fear you have, before turning on a light? But the feeling stretches, it's endless, because there  _isn't_ a light to turn on."

Hermione was in awe. She had never heard Draco speak in such depths of anything before. She was lost in his despair just then, and could tell he regretted speaking of it.

"It felt like hours had gone by before Lupin must have noticed something. The next thing I knew, I was back in class, everyone was as they were, waiting in line for their turn and giving me strange looks. The hours were apparently only fleeting seconds, enough time for Lupin to realize I couldn't defeat my fear."

Draco could not believe he had just told her  _all of that_. He tilted his head backward and slid his hands down his face as if to wipe away his embarrassment. He had never told anyone about his boggart before...  _and then there was the part about her!_

Hermione could see that he was visibly squeamish. Finally, she spoke, "That sounds... terrifying, Malfoy."

Physical embarrassment radiated off him. Recognizing that she could not say anything to make him feel better, she quickly skipped to a lighter question. She cleared her throat, "Do you listen to music? If so, which genres?"

Draco slightly sat up, trying to shake off the dark haze of the last answer he had given. He wondered if she had ever heard of such a fear. Perhaps Potter's were in line with his. Ready to move on, he answered, "I like both wizard  _and_ Muggle music, particularly anything with a piano."

Hermione nodded, thinking he had good taste. She had not been expecting that. She supposed he would listen to some sort of grunge rock, something with aggression, to match his. The next question was really for her own curiosity because she kept forgetting to ask, and vital to her survival, "Where exactly are we located right now?"

Relieved to be finished, and with an easy answer, he supplied, "Chatham Island, New Zealand."

Hermione froze and her expression dropped, her face growing pale. Her eyes darted out toward the opening of the tent and then back to Draco. Her  _parents_  were in New Zealand. Those she had told about the memory charm, had been told they were in Australia, just to be safe.

 _How could Malfoy have taken me here, out of all the places in the world?_ Her fear quickly morphed to anger and she abruptly got up from the table.  _He must have used legilimency on me when I was passed out!_

He was taken back when she abruptly stood from her seat. "What? Do you hate New Zealand or something? Too far from England?"

Hermione was standing now and looking down angrily at Draco. Sarcastically, she responded, "Oh, like you  _really_  don't know?"

Draco was confused but, still under the serum, it forced an honest answer from him, "No. Know what?"

In her paranoid state, Hermione forgot he was under serum, but was beginning to question either the serum or his abilities to counter it. She was furious that the one secret she thought she kept safe, had already been discovered. She hesitated, but she was impatient and needed to know what game he was playing. "My parents are here!"

She watched him to see if he would break, or smirk and reveal everything he was up to, but he just looked right back at her, waiting for her to explain. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If he was able to lie about everything, why go through this much trouble? Why not use  _her_ to get Harry for the Dark Lord? What would Draco gain? Maybe Harry's gone, and they need answers from her, and her parents as leverage? Why waste all of this time then?

"Granger...?"

She opened her eyes and saw Draco looking at her with concern.

"What do you want with them? It's no use anyway, they've been charmed to forget."

Draco appeared confused, but was forced to answer all the same, "Granger, I'm not here for your parents."

Hermione stared down at him, "So you  _happened_  to take us to a place where they're near? I place that even Harry and Ron didn't know about?"

"Yes, I suppose.  _Honestly_ , Granger, because even if I wanted to lie, I couldn't. I had no idea your parents were here."

"Well they're not  _here_  literally, but I'm hardly going to give you details."

Draco shook his head to ponder how it was possible. He was giving her cruciatus eyes and he was certain that she was seconds away from granting him the honor of joining the Bloody Baron. He needed to calm her or get her off the topic of suspecting him at least.

"Did you alter them with a memory charm?"

This was a sensitive topic because she was disgusted that she had to alter her parents memories at all. She assumed by the way Draco was keeping his eyes on the table that he was making a judgement about her doing this to her own parents. The nerve of him judging her when he was an actual Death Eater got her even more heated.

"Yes, I did what I had to do to keep them  _safe_ , okay? We've all had to make sacrifices, Malfoy!"

Draco could not understand why she had become so angry over a coincidence but fed off of her aggression. The serum did not allow him to hold back. "Oh you don't think _I_  understand sacrifice? Look at me, I was a pureblood puppet for most my life! I bet you just assumed I have always  _wanted_  to be that way- even now, you probably think I'm up to something, don't you? I can  _see_  you thinking! Look, ask me anything! I've still got another thirty minutes of serum to prove myself to you."

Draco watched her as she paced in front of him, her eyes wide. It was clear by the way she clenched her fists, that something was eating away at her thoughts.

"Come on,  _ask me_!" he goaded. "Do you think I brought us here on purpose because your parents happen to be on a nearby island? What reason would I have to do that?"

But Hermione remained silent, looking down at the parchment in her hands. It was against her nature not to follow their original agreement about questions on the list, but she was fuming, her heart racing, everything was bubbling to the surface.

Irritated that she was not responding to him, Draco prodded, "Look, ask me anything. Forget about the parchment rule. Fuck it, just- I can tell you want to ask something, so just  _ask_!"

Rising to his challenge and breaking their own rules, was one thing... but she hardly realized the question she spat out, until it was too late to take it back, "If you don't hate Muggles, then why  _me?"_

Stunned, Draco quickly ascertained that this was no longer just about her parents. No, she had gone straight for the elephant in the room. Of course, the serum forced him to answer right away, "Because you never answered my letter!"

There was a pause, as if even the static in the air stood still.

"What...? What letter?"

Draco realized the way he had blurted that out was very confusing. He exhaled and found his mind tighten and going to a distant place, something he was trained to do when he did not want someone to enter his thoughts. He had been trained in occlumency by his mother and aunt, and had practiced often after the Dark Lord had taken over his home. He chastised himself,  _This is not the time, just tell her_.

He broke his concentration when he looked into her eyes. He exhaled and gave in to the serum, "I wrote you a letter. Right, sounds strange-"

He paused when she appeared as if he was speaking a different language with her eyebrows low in skepticism.

"Please sit down and I'll explain-  _as if I have a choice_."

Hermione studied him and then hesitantly sat back down. She figured they had about twenty-five minutes left.

In all her perplexity, the only certainty she held to was to gain as much intel as she could while he was still under the serum.

Draco continued while he nervously rubbed his nail beds again, "I wrote you a letter the summer after first year. Eventually, I found out that you never responded to it because you didn't receive it."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and in an attempt to be civil, queried, "Could you please explain further?"

Having no choice, he did. "I know I was a prick to you as a kid, but I wrote to you because I thought we could still..." Draco caught himself before he revealed too much, and tried to hold back the babbling effect of the serum _._ He shifted in his seat and tried again,"I didn't really understand just how deep my family's pureblood-loyalty crap ran, and I wanted-" His restraint against the serum was slowly becoming easier for him.  _Perhaps it's wearing off_ , he thought.

Sensing Hermione's suspicious glare, Draco did not want to lose whatever confidence he had gained with her. He had to look away to finish. "You were so smart, Granger, and you seemed to get along with other boys. I thought, 'why not me?'... so I wrote you. When I never heard back, I was annoyed. It was my first attempt to be friends with a girl - and not just any girl, a  _Muggleborn_  girl - and it messed me up. So in second year, all the while assuming you had rejected my letter, I tried to cover up my bruised ego by being as mean as I could to you."

Hermione's eyebrows were scrunched low in suspicion, "How did you know I didn't get the letter?"

"Well I didn't know at first, not for that whole year! Then the next summer I was looking for a book in my father's study, and got to snooping around. There it was, on his desk under some other papers. It had been opened and crumpled up, so I can only assume my father had filtered through any outgoing mail. He clearly didn't approve of it, though he never brought it up to me."

Hermione quickly uncrossed her arms and her hands dropped hard on the table top with frustration. "So you found it, saw that I hadn't _actually_  rejected your letter, and still you were an arrogant prat to me for the next few years?"

"If you recall, by then it was pretty much too late, given how things had escalated with Potter. Then my family was constantly reminding me not to interact with Muggleborns at school... My only rewards in life were trying to please people around me, much like I assume you felt rewarded for your good grades or house points." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms in a huff. "I can give you all sorts of excuses for my behavior, Granger, but between you and me, deep down I assumed that you were too proud and too good to be seen with someone as low as me. Looking back on everything, I was pathetic and desperate. "

A long silence followed his answer. Hermione thought back to what he had told her about his boggart: had Draco Malfoy simply managed to hide his true feelings and his worst fears for that long? Could she really have misjudged him so completely for so many years? Feeling she might be sick, she quickly freed herself from the conversation, "I need to-...excuse me." and briskly walked out of the tent.


	8. Reflect

Draco was left sitting there, wondering if he had just made things worse between them. Given that he was under the effects of the Veritaserum, he decided to let it wear off, vowing to check on her later. Standing slowly, he made his way over to the kitchen counter and busied himself with making more potion to heal her condition, should the effects come back. Her wand lay discarded there, which reassured him that she was not planning to do anything rash after their interaction.

Hermione sat outside the tent, only a few feet away from the opening, just so she could get some fresh air and to think. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze floated lazily through the air. It appeared to be mid-day, but she could not be too sure.  _No wonder... New Zealand_...

She stared at the ground and noticed two blue-colored mushrooms that she had never seen in person before. She looked around the area for more, but they were the only ones she could see. The unique mushroom made her reflect more on the land. _Why would Draco would pick this country?_

Even though they were on a different island from her parents, it was still difficult to believe the coincidence.  _If his serum was working, which it seemed to be from his in-depth answers,_   _then what does that mean? We just have similar taste?_

Hermione looked out toward the ocean and reflected on Draco's fears. She had learned a lot from the twenty questions she had asked, but his answer to the last one had really shaken her up. She looked back down at the mushrooms and leaned to pluck one out of the ground to study it as her mind continued to reflect.

There was the matter of his boggart and she could not help but feel sorry for him.  _My fear at the time of Lupin's class was failing and being kicked out of Hogwarts. Looking back, it seems quite stupid, but for a Muggleborn trying to belong in a wonderful magical world, I was worried to be thrown back out. And now I don't feel like I'm in any of those worlds, but well, his._ Hermione turned the little mushroom by the stem,  _I bet he would love to have this mushroom for his collection._ Then she flung it as far as she could.

 _In his fear from the boggart, I was the only student turned around, does this mean that I wouldn't forgive him? Or was I the only one not making a swift decision to kick him into the darkness? Maybe it was another depth of his fear that I would forget him or refuse to help make a decision for him at all. Why am I a part of his damn fears anyway?_ She looked to the remaining mushroom, standing alone as the sun cast an elongated shadow behind it.

 _And he wrote a LETTER to me? I mean, had that letter actually gotten to me, things would have been so different, even if only at first. I wonder what it said... Ugh!_ She leaned to pluck the lone mushroom from the ground, holding the stem firmly.  _This is supposed to be about trusting him to help the Order and the mission and all I can do is think selfishly. Focus! In the questioning, did he say enough for me to trust him? I would have to say 'yes'. He said 'yes' to helping Harry, and he has never killed anyone... that's really all that matters right now._ She released her hold on the mushroom and watched it bobble slightly.

Then, Hermione felt her legs tingle again and when she tried to shift her legs, they rejected her control.

"Bugger!"

Feeling frustrated, she hoped for a swift recovery, but knew that Bellatrix had done a number on her. She would still require Draco's help. Given their most recent interaction however, she decided to stay outside a bit longer before having to shout for him, again.  _After all, he could probably use a bit of space right now, too..._

She thought about her list of questions; she had got through all but the last one, but it was the one that had been nagging at her the most. Why had Draco Malfoy saved her in the first place?

Draco mulled over what had just passed between them. He figured she was probably angry at him for  _choosing_  to be mean to her all those years when she now knew he did not actually have any issues with Muggles in the first place. Either way, he knew he had been cruel, despite having had his reasons. He used to despise the fact that his father had kept that letter from her. Though he was resentful at first, he had later, taken up a different perspective. After all, it had become a way of protecting her from getting too close to him, and to the world of purebloods... and in turn, it had also selfishly protected Draco, himself, from suffering punishment at the hands of his racist family, and eventually, the Dark Lord.

When his mother had helped him escape with Hermione that day, Draco had to wonder if Narcissa had known about the letter. She would have been the one to stop Lucius from confronting Draco on it, he was sure of it. It was just like her to let things settle in the moment and see if they were to rise naturally again later. When he overheard his parents discussing things about him, she would always say 'effort once is trial, effort twice is interest'. This was how she decided if he was really into something, like a new broom or a potions lab, or in this case, Hermione Granger. Though he was never truly sure if she had known about the letter, until the escape. He had so many questions to ask her, hoping he would still get the chance to.

Draco put his potion ingredients and journals away slowly before attempting to read a book. He wished he had other sorts of entertainment, though he was unsure if it would be of any use, given how preoccupied his mind was. What Granger did with Potter and Weasley when the three of them were bored? He had often been jealous of their close-knit little group; it was easy to tell that their relationship was stronger than any of the friendships he had ever had.

Over two hours later, nightfall was swiftly approaching and Draco decided that Hermione had been on her own for long enough. He did not want to spend more time wondering how she felt about him, he needed to know.

It was already dusk by the time Draco left the tent to find her seated on the grass not far from the tent's opening. He only watched her for a moment, deciding that she seemed deep in thought. The sun's last light on her face highlighted all his favorite features. He could see her soft freckles that accentuated the curve of her cheek, that seemed to climb up her clever nose.

Not wanting to disturb her, he opted to take a seat near the outside of the tent, to wait. Hermione seemed to sense his presence however, because she opened her eyes at the rustling of the grass and turned slightly toward him.

He waited for her to speak, but when she was not forthcoming, he asked, "Are you alright out here?" Taking note of her seated position, he wondered if he should have brought out a vial of the potion he had made for her. " _Need_   _assistance_?"

Perhaps he only subconsciously wanted the opportunity to carry her again.

"I'm okay, thanks."

Frustrated with himself, Draco suspected he had already ruined what he thought he might finally be able to have: her friendship. He waited a moment, gazing out over the distant ocean and watched the sun setting low on the horizon.

When he looked back at Hermione, he found her watching him as if to imply that he should leave her alone.  _If she wants to be alone, I should just go get the vials so she can have her freedom._

"I'll be right back," he told her.

Draco fetched the three vials, and they clinked against each other as he eagerly walked out to her.

"Here," he offered, handing her the vials, "three more of what you took earlier. You were able to walk last time about two minutes later. So... I'll be inside if you need me, but I might go sleep."

Taking the vials, Hermione recalled that she had never really thanked him before, or acknowledged his success in finding something to temporarily cure her. It was hard to accept his kindness, particularly right now, but secretly she appreciated it. Not being able to move her legs was frustrating, and right now, she did not want him to know.

"Thanks."

After watching Draco disappear back inside, and as she uncorked one of the three vials, he popped his head back out of the tent making her flinch slightly.

"Oh, and don't wander past the wards."

She tilted her head to imply she heard him, and he went back inside. Hermione paused, waiting to see if he going to come back out again, then downed one vial and she carefully counting the seconds to see if he had been correct on the timing. She noticed that it actually took two minutes and fifty-six seconds and wondered if that would interest Draco's scientific proclivities. With newly regained control of her legs, she stretched them to relieve the ache from sitting in one spot so long.

With all of the thoughts nagging at her logic, she had almost forgotten to simply  _feel._  This is what her mother told her when she would come back from Hogwarts over break with all sorts of drama she had spilled out. She was used to overthinking things, often finding it difficult to remind herself to also rely on her feelings and instincts. Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet air, and attempted to hone in on her emotions by meditating. Everything in their past aside, she knew what she primarily felt toward Draco at the moment, was appreciation. There was also a very real exhaustion of being paranoid.

 _I should talk to him before he goes to sleep_ , she realized, once her feelings became clear.

Making her way into the tent, she blurted loudly, "It's actually two minutes and fifty-six seconds..."

Her voice faded when a quick glance around the tent revealed Draco standing near his bed with his shirt off. Judging from his deer-in-the-headlights expression, she had caught him in the middle of changing. Thankfully, he had already changed into his pajama bottoms when she had walked in. Another style of clothing item she had never seen on him. The soft fabric dipped and curved in places that nearly left no room to the imagination.

Trying to act smooth, he grabbed the short-sleeved shirt he had planned to sleep in, and responded, "Oh, yeah? Three minutes, well that's good to know."

Hermione tried to focus, but she had never seen Draco shirtless before. While it was true she had always found him attractive, their rivalry had caused her her to shove any sort of thoughts she might have of him deep down. He was slender, with toned muscles and pale skin, but there was something about his brief, partial nudity that made him seem vulnerable. Somehow, it was comforting.

He pulled his shirt over his head, not taking his eyes off Hermione.

"Sorry," she apologized, "I didn't think to check that you might be changing. I was hoping we could before you went to sleep..."

"I figured you'd be out there longer," he shrugged, "what do you want to talk about?"

Hermione did her best to shake off the awkward incident. She played casual by settling on the couch across from a small wood-burning stove, wishing for wood to actually burn since they were avoiding magic. Then Draco gained her attention again by sitting in a worn armchair just in front of the stove.

"So, Malfoy," she began, "I've been thinking a lot, and after everything you've told me, I've decided to trust you."

Slowly nodding, Draco offered her a half smile, "Is that so, Granger?"

She noticed his sarcasm, but continued anyway, "I think it would be in both of our best interests to attempt a friendship, or at the very least, a truce."

"Well when you put it that way-"

" _Also_ , I was thinking that if I am able to walk without your potion for an entire day, we should make our way to a safe house. That way, we can meet up with the Order and develop a plan to find Harry and Ron."

Thinking on this, Draco decided he liked that she had said ' _we_ '. She could easily have decided they would part ways, opting instead to travel alone. Either way, he would need her vote of confidence when approaching the the Order, and especially to stop Potter and Weasley from murdering him on sight.

Still, what she asked seemed hasty. He negotiated, " _Two_  days."

Caught off guard, Hermione replied, "Sorry?"

" _Two_ days without the potion. If you are walking for two  _full_  days, after your last sip of potion, we can go. Also, I will clearly need help convincing anyone from your side that I'm not an active Death Eater."

Hermione studied his eyes, pretending to think more on the deal and to give him the impression that she would not trust him so easily. Finally, "Okay, deal."

This time, Draco anticipated that she would want to shake on it, so he stretched out his hand first. Hermione gave a soft smile and clasped his hand, finding it felt more natural than last time.

"Alright,  _Draco_ , now that we're agreed, I'm going to go to sleep."

Hermione felt that saying his name out loud, and so casually, implied a jump in their relationship, an open door for anything to happen and wondered if he had similar thoughts. It was as if her civil personality had completely left her body and replaced it with someone more brash, and she liked it.

Draco tipped his head as if his ear could capture the melody of her voice speaking his name. His heart pulsed and his mind filled with other scenarios in which he would like to hear her say it.

Her heart raced, as she continued in this mood, glancing back to see his reaction. "Am I  _allowed_  to call you  _Draco_  now? We just agreed to be friends didn't we?"

Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands behind his head and drawled, "Yea I guess I'll allow it, though I may need some more time to get used to it, _Granger_."

Hermione nodded, enjoying the new connection between them and feeling proud at least for the small control that she may call him what she liked. With that, she rose from the couch to grab her purse from the counter and made her way to bed. Closing the curtain behind her for privacy, she realized she had never bid him good night like she would have to another friend and popped her head back out. "Goodnight,Draco."

For awhile after Hermione shut the curtains around her bed, Draco remained seated in the worn armchair with his arms behind his head, smiling from ear to ear. After having been at odds with Granger for so long, the small things that passed between them felt new and intimate. He could not help but enjoy the feeling.

Hermione, meanwhile, had changed into her pajamas and settled into bed, and though she had clicked off the small light by her bed which implied her readiness to sleep, her mind was still working over the night's conversations with Draco.  _On one hand, he's still the same person: clever, quick-witted, sneaky... but on the other hand, he has clearly matured. He's assertive, but attentive, caring, and... REALLY bloody attractive._  Her nose wrinkled. _Ugh, of course he's attractive. Every female at Hogwarts made that perfectly clear over the years. Did Draco know they thought so? Probably, with an ego that large. I wonder if anyone ever found me attractive? Probably not, although Victor did ask me to the Yule Ball, and he could have gone with anyone, so I can't be THAT bad... I wonder what Draco thinks...?_

Before she could be overwhelmed by her thoughts, Hermione fished through her purse for her CD player. Listening to music on an electronic device mercifully worked here, away from magical interference, unlike at Hogwarts. She had thought of a song that reminded her of Draco, and could not help but want to listen to it, despite that she had limited battery life.

After the last few notes of the song faded away, Hermione caught herself feeling a little excited that she was only a few yards away from where Draco was sleeping. In that moment, her mind did not weigh on the issues of trust or which side Draco actually favored to in this war, but instead, her mind weighed on if he would ever favor her.

Just across from her, Draco was in his bed, thinking over their last interaction. Certain things popped into his mind, like how he had never really spent this much time in close quarters with another woman before, let alone someone like Granger. He had been so busy focused on making her potion and paranoid that snatchers would be just around the corner, that all of the small personal realizations came to the forefront of his mind. Small inconsequential things like how Granger did not snore, or how she ran her hands through her hair when she was tired.

They both eventually drifted off into sleep in their separate beds unknowingly thinking about each other, allowing for the first time in a while, to ponder something more light hearted than a war. All seemed peaceful in the tent until the late hours of the night when there was a loud noise interrupting the peace like a mandrake being pulled from its roots.

Gasping with the suddenness with which he had been awakened, Draco sat up, his wand already gripped in his hand. Something had roused him; he was very still, listening.

Then he heard it again: screaming.

It was Hermione screaming.


	9. Fear

Draco jumped out of bed, casting a quick  _Lumos_  to fill the tent with light, but he could not spot an intruder. Hermione's bed curtains were still closed, but she had stopped screaming. He hesitated, wondering if she simply had a nightmare.  _Maybe it's over and I should just leave her alone..._

When he heard another scream he looked up to Hermione's curtains noticing them flick back and forth. "Granger, you ok?"

He cautiously walked over and opened her curtains to find Hermione sitting up against the back corner of her bed and screaming frantically. He could see her eyes pinched closed and gripping her forearm where Bellatrix had marked her.

"Granger, what happened? Are you having a nightmare?"

Draco began trying to climb into her bed, but hesitated when he realized he did not really know what to do.  _How can I help her out of a nightmare when she's clearly in hysterics?_

Regardless, he drew closer, deciding he could begin by reaching out to calm her. As he did so, Hermione's eyes caught the image of the Dark Mark branded into his forearm, which only furthered her screams to another level.

Seeing what had set her off, he retracted his arm quickly and whispered, "Shit."

He resolved to wear long sleeves from then on, especially if it was going to set her off, but for the moment, it was too late. She swung her arm at him and he ducked just in time. Attempting to restrain her from hitting him, but not wanting to resort to violence himself, he moved closer to hug her tight, despite her frantic squirming. Drawing as close as he dared while she flailed, he reasoned, "Hermione... it's okay, you're safe. It's just Draco, your friend,  _remember_?" When she continued to writhe in his vice-like grip, he tried again, "Shhhh, Hermione, you're in your tent. You're safe."

"You don't know anything about me! Get off! I won't tell you anything!"

Draco tried to think, but it was difficult when she was still struggling against him; she needed to hear something personal, something no one would know about her except a close friend.

"Yes.  _Yes_ , I do know something about you: your parents, Hermione...your parents are here in New Zealand. Right, remember? They're here, close by."

As if this had been was the secret password to calm her, she instantaneously stilled. This was a relief and he loosened his grip just slightly as she slowly opening her eyes. Draco hung on to her for a moment as they both breathed deep, in an attempt to calm down. He watched her, expecting her to look at him or acknowledge the innocent and not letting go until he had a sign that she was aware of what was going on. She remained still but eerily stared at the blankets piled on her bed. It was as if he was not there at all, so he slowly let go of her and shifted to the edge of her bed keeping a close eye on her.

Hermione's eyes were puffy and wet with tears and she attempted to clear them. She did not seem to notice Draco and after she appeared completely calm, she began to lay down. She then pulled the covers over her and rolled over on her side.

Draco sat and waited, wondering if she had fallen back to sleep, or if she had ever woken up during her tantrum at all.  _Is she just embarrassed?_

When she did not move, he decided to leave her alone. Standing up and closing her curtains, he made his way back to his bed, but when he lay down, he found himself wide awake from the all the adrenaline.

 _This fucking Dark Mark! Maybe she would trust me more if it wasn't imprinted onto my body..._ Raising his forearm into the air, he traced his finger around the skull still feeling the embossment of it above his skin... _and fucking Bellatrix! I know that nightmare was a result of her bloody curses._ Then he flopped his arm back down onto the bed, and turned sideways to look toward Hermione's bed. _At least Hermione is calm now. Did she notice I was there at all? I mean, she must have heard me mention her parents..._ Frustrated, Draco sat up,  _by the moons of Saturn I'm so awake now..._

Giving up on sleep, Draco rose and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing an apple to eat. He loitered around until he located a book to scan out of boredom. Multiple times, he glanced up toward Hermione's bedroom area, monitoring the curtains, only managing to fall back asleep after a couple of hours had passed.

The next morning, Hermione awoke feeling achy. She stretched and decided to dig through her purse for a change of clothes, grabbing a tie-back for her hair and restraining it back into a bun. After making her own version of Veritaserum, she promised to give her wand back, and her hair was rioting for it, looking like a frizzy mess. She wondered if maybe now that Draco was her friend, he would give it back.

She opened her curtain, but noticed her legs were not working. Rummaging through her things, she found the second vial Draco had given her and drank it down. Exactly three minutes later, she was able to stand.

Scanning the tent, she found Draco lying face-down on his bed with his curtains open. Deciding to use this quiet time to her benefit, she took a shower and after, quietly made a pot of tea and some toast.

As she sat at the table sipping her tea, she glanced over toward Draco and pondered,  _How late in the morning is it? I wonder if he will wake up soon. Is he not a morning person? Should I make breakfast? I should put the two vials that I finished from yesterday and today back in his little lab over there? Although, I could lie and say I didn't need them today..._

Hermione analyzed her sneaky thought, wondering what the Slytherin would think of it.

_Would he ask me for proof? Maybe I could fill the vials with water and he would see that they were still filled and might not even think to check. Then we could leave sooner..._

As she thought about this, she held the empty vials in her fingers, quietly clinking them together. In her inattendance, she lost her grip on one and it dropped to the ground,  _clink-_ ing multiple times as it bounced and rolled before shattering. She watched as it exploded outward like a firework sending shards of glass skidding across the wood floor as far as Draco's bed.

Hermione squinted in dismay at the mess, feeling trapped as she realized she was surrounded by it and did not have shoes or even socks on.

Draco sat up in bed. "What was  _that_?"

Blinking a few times to adjust his eyes, Draco swung his legs over the side of his bed and began to step onto the ground. Noticing he was barefoot, Hermione quickly shouted, "Wait! Don't step out, I dropped a vial and there's broken glass underneath you!"

Luckily, Draco had good reaction time, even in his tired state, and avoided stepping on the glass. "What's going on Granger? Whatever it is, don't take it out on my vials. You must enjoy waking me up-"

Imagining he was referring to the night when she screamed because the bats flying outside at her  _days_ ago.  _Does he really think I was angry because of that, and threw the vial?_

"It was an accident."

Draco took out his wand. " _Reparo_."

Hermione watched as the shattered glass magically mended itself back into its original shape, leaving a whole, unblemished vial lying on the floor.

"I could have done that," she pushed, " _if_  I had my wand..."

Ignoring her comment, Draco slowly got up and grabbed the mended vial. As he passed her, he glanced her way where she sat at the table, but kept walking, running his fingers through his hair.

 _The one time I had a sneaky idea... I suck at this!_ She looked down at the one empty vial left in her hand.  _Although, I do have this empty one that I can-_ "I have two more to replace those," Draco interrupted her thoughts.

_Ugh! He noticed the one in my hand was empty too? Why am I even trying to scheme around the sneakiest student in all of Hogwarts?_

Draco continued on his way, placing the vial back on the counter and grabbing his bag to walk away for a shower. He had hoped the shower would wake him up, but forgetting that it took a while to warm up, he stepped into a cold shower,  _fuck!_ The cold was a shock to his sleepy state and he was internally groaning about anything he could, like why Hermione could not just let him sleep,  _ever. First the escape attempt, then the nightmares, and now this..._

Draco began to feel the warmth of the shower finally. He yawned and wondered if Hermione remembered the nightmares from last night. He did not stay in the shower for as long as he would have liked because he carried an unconscious weight on his shoulders, he was their only defense.

Draco got dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, and placed his bag near the counter then noticed Hermione making breakfast, it smelled delicious.

Hermione had managed to find some eggs and sausage in the larder, the last of it, and was cooking them a pan over a small camp-stove.

"Hungry?" she queried.

While Draco did know how to make some foods without magic, most of his meals had been prepared by a house-elf. Trying to pay attention to what she was doing without seeming like he was, he wondered how much Muggle-cooking Hermione had done in her lifetime. He guessed she probably knew a lot, just like everything else she knew.

As Draco watched her, he only nodded in answer to her question, staying quiet in an attempt to curb any crankiness from his lack of sleep and her not acknowledging the events of last night.

Plating the food with a fork and knife, Hermione walked them over to the table. "Tea or Coffee?"

"Coffee."

Draco went to sit at the table while Hermione poured coffee into a mug from a small tin-like vessel. Draco thought the thing looked old and basic and he wondered how it worked without the use of magic. Taking a tentative sip of coffee, he looked up at Hermione, "I've never had Muggle cooking before... and this is _really_ good coffee."

Hermione smiled, "Well check _that_  off of your bucket list I guess!"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed at this comment.

Forgetting it was a Muggle phrase, Hermione translated, "A bucket list is a Muggle expression. It's a list of things you make, of things you have always wanted to do before you die."

Sarcastically, Draco responded, "Well that sounds cheery... I can only imagine what your  _bucket'ed_  list contains."

Draco looked up to see Hermione nearly spit out her tea while giggling at hearing him use the Muggle phrase. He quickly assessed that he probably said it incorrectly. This was the first time he had seen her giggle in person.

She managed to contain herself enough to explain, "It's not a  _bucket'ed_  list, it's a  _bucket list._ It's derived from another Muggle phrase;  _to kick the bucket_ , meaning death. You know,  _bucket_ , like a bucket and broom closet?"

While Draco would usually not have cared about this or actually found it funny, the way she wa laughing and correcting him made him feel like a child. Too tired to really care, he snapped, "Okay, I get it. Just stop saying ' _bucket'_..."

Hermione could clearly see his annoyance.  _Is he really this sensitive over being corrected?_

Thinking that maybe she had embarrassed him, his manner altered her response, "Okay, Draco, why don't you eat something? Are you moody when you're hungry? Or are you just not a morning person?"

Still feeling like she was talking down to him, Draco quickly grew even more annoyed, especially after he had helped her last night. She had kept him up for hours and she didn't even seem appreciative about it, just like she had with the potion.

"No, I'm not one of  _those_  people... I  _am_  one of those people who enjoys a bit of  _sleep_  though!"

Hermione had no immediate response.  _Is he still upset over the broken vial thing?_   _He must have slept all night before that though... what, does he need like 18 hours of sleep or something?_

"Do you remember having  _any_  nightmares last night?"

Hermione thought back, but only recalled that she had slept just fine. Thinking it was a trick question, she asked, "No, was I talking in my sleep or something? I've never been known to do that. I would think someone would have told me by now."

Draco wondered if she was referring to the girls' dormitories, or of the time she had spent with Potter and Weasley. Suddenly the thought of her sleeping with either of them agitated him. "Forget it."

Hermione knew something was wrong,  _I just made him breakfast, why is he being rude?_

"Look, I don't know why you're mad at  _me_  now, I thought we had a  _truce_."

Draco stared at her for a moment; he did not really intend to be _this_  angry, and was now annoyed at himself for reacting that way. Taking a deep breath, he finally responded, "Granger, you woke up screaming last night. I wasn't sure if you remembered, but it was pretty intense."

"Me? _I_  was screaming? I would think, I'd remember that and... if that's true why did you take so long to bring it up?"

"Like you and the potion working?" he sneered. "You're over here talking about  _buckets_! I just thought you were embarrassed or something!"

Hermione began to grow visibly annoyed.  _He wants me to give him a prize for creating a... somewhat successful potion for me, huh? And not bothering to tell me I had nightmares? He could have brought it up first!_

"So let me get this clear: I was screaming, it woke you up, and now  _you're_  angry?"

"Look, Granger! Last night, I had to calm you down, while you were delusional and tried to hit me! So, yeah, I'm a  _bit_  tired this morning. Sorry I'm not as  _cheery_  as your usual puppy-dog friends!  _Thanks for the food!_ How  _easy_ was that, huh?"

With that, he grabbed his plate began to walk away, but Hermione was not finished. Standing, she shouted, "Does that make you feel better, Malfoy? That you _saved_ me? What for, anyway? What was the point, for your guilt? So we could have this useless fight? Or did you  _only_  just need me so you could run away, and I could corroborate your story as a defector?"

Draco stopped. His mind was tired but his anger was sluggishly bubbling up to the surface. How did she always have this effect on him?  _Just walk away. Don't answer her, just go and calm down._

But it was no use. "You just know  _everything,_  don't you, Granger? Yeah, you're right: that was the  _only_  reason! Happy? One hundred points to  _fucking_  Gryffindor! That's exactly why I spent  _days_  creating that potion, right? I took that bloody serum, got punched in the face...  _again_! I'm just a sneaky bastard, right?"

He really did not want to tell her why he saved her, not now. How would she take it if he had said that his world would be useless if she wasn't alive? How could he make her believe that the good side of this war would not advance without her help? How could he admit that, yes, he had saved her selfishly, but it was because he wanted to have her for his own, or at least to try to win her affections?

He was breathing hard and fuming, and though he had so much more to say, he stopped because she was not even looking at him.  _She doens't care_ , he decided, thinking that was probably more insulting than anything she could ever have said to him. Turning on his heel, he left the tent.

Hermione sat and stared at the now-empty space across from her, amazed at how quickly she and Draco had jumped back into their usual bickering.  _Was I really that bad last night? Why is he so difficult? Harry Ron were never this intense! Though, the boys would probably not be able to take care of me as well as Draco has been. Ugh! Was I really that bad last night? Was he in my bed? Why can't I remember?_

Just then, she began to feel her legs start with the tingling sensation again. She quickly tried to remember where she had last put her purse, deciding to check near her bed. Cautiously, she made her way over and climbed in to look, but it was not there.

While sitting down, she spotted her purse over by the counter, recalling that she must have placed it there after her shower. By now, it was too late, as her legs had given out. She was at least satisfied that she had made it into the bed, hardly wanting to talk to Draco for help, not anymore.

Something about the intense, emotional moments between them seemed to trigger her legs failing. She feared that she had already ruined what they had only just begun to build yesterday. Tugging at her curtains, she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, feeling sleepy, possibly because of the nightmares Draco had mentioned. As she lays down, she tried her best to remember the night before.  _He was in my bed?_

With that lingering thought, she slowly fell asleep.


	10. Abandoned

After Draco finished eating his breakfast outside, he felt calm enough to speak with Hermione again. Having something in his stomach actually had helped and now he wanted to apologize. He half expected her to apologize first, only because it seemed to be more of her nature than his.

When he returned to the tent, she was nowhere to be seen, but he noticed her curtains were shut. He walked over to the front of her bed, thinking about speaking to her, but eventually decided to step away, deciding it was best for her to rest.

He assumed even after their fight, that their truce and agreement about the two full days without potion remained. Draco opened the larder to find one tin of green beans and decided this would be the best time to find that Muggle store he had been to years ago.

It did not take long to whip up two more vials of her potion for her legs, as he had kept detail notes in one of his journals. He placed them on an edge of her bed that was outside of the curtain, in a spot where they would not roll off.

 _When she wants to come out, she will see them there._  Satisfied with that thought, he grabbed his wand to Disapparate.

An hour later, Hermione slowly awakened. Her legs were still not working, and she figured she would have to call for Draco's help.  _I hope he's in a better mood..._

Sliding open her curtain, she glanced around the tent, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Draco?"

No response. She was a little frustrated, but she reminded herself that she could not expect him to be at her beck and call.

Just then, she noticed two vials on the outside edge of her bed.  _He remembered... now I feel like a git. All he has done is save me, mend me, allow me to interrogate him, and apparently, put up with my nightmares. Okay, from now on, I'll be on my best behavior... unless HE acts like a git, in which case, I'll totally fight back..._ She took one of the vials and drank it down. The taste of the cherry vanilla filled her with more guilt.  _I need to say sorry and thank him now... I actually LIKE talking to him when we aren't ready to kill one another, which was what, for all of two minutes? Okay, I need to find him. Perhaps he's still pouting outside and expects me to approach HIM..._

After exactly three minutes, Hermione was able to get up. She retrieved her purse added the new vial, vowing to keep it near at all times. On her way over to it, she checked the back of the tent to see if Draco was there. When he was nowhere to be seen, she decided to look outside. Again, Draco was nowhere in sight.

 _Did he take a walk? I had to have been sleeping for at least an hour. Would Draco go on a walk for an hour?_  Slowly, it dawned on her,  _He was fairly upset... and he left those vials near the bed... did he leave?_

Hermione began to circle the tent, and wondered if it was safe to shout for him outside.  _Would that attract snatchers or Death Eaters? Are Death Eaters even looking for us this far away from England?_

Walking back inside, she decided that he would not have left without his bag. Checking near the kitchen island, she saw that it was gone.  _All_  his items were gone: potion, tools, cauldron, all gone... and there was no note.

_He left. He has left me. Alone. With my portkeys and wand!_

As the panic was building up, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her toe from kicking a kitchen stool on accident. She pinched her eyes shut from the sharp pain and she sank down in defeat. As the pain subsided, she stared at the tent entrance.  _If he was going to return, there would have been a note, right?_ Quickly standing again, she combed every surface in the kitchen, but they were all empty, not a single sheaf of parchment in sight. Her hands fell on the counter surface and her head slumped.  _I have finally done it: I've even managed to scare off Draco Malfoy. He probably would choose being a Death Eater over spending any more time with me. This is why I can't ever get a boyfriend! I'm too much, too hard on people! I'm the last person anyone wants for company!_ Hermione dragged her nails over the scalp of her head and closed her eyes... _I mean you lose some sleep, that doesn't mean you just LEAVE. Ugh! He could have at least said goodbye! But this was probably easier. Of course he would take the easy way out. Maybe he really did only save me to have a connection to the Order._

Just then, Hermione had a thought and she sat up,  _Everything is gone from here, but I didn't check the bathroom. He always left his cologne and toothpaste in there._

She nearly ran there without thought, but grabbed her purse to take with her when she realized that if Draco was gone, she only had two more vials left in there to use. Realizing how important the potion actually was, she felt a twinge of regret for being so rude to him about it.

She thrust open the bathroom door and to her immense relief, the items she was hoping to see were still there. She crossed to the sink and picked up his cologne.  _He left this here. Does this mean he didn't leave? Maybe he has extras or just forgot them?_

While Hermione was snooping around the bathroom, a noise came from the other side of the tent. She was sure it sounded like footsteps, and they were getting closer. Someone was here...

Then she heard a voice, "Accio grocery bags."

While clutching her purse in one hand and clinging tightly to Draco's cologne bottle in the other, Hermione leaned out of the bathroom door to take a peek, already thinking up the best possible weapon she might have in her purse. When she finally had a look at who it was, she stood up straight and walked out of the bathroom, simply standing there in shock. It was Draco, and she could not help but think that he had never looked so good. She was utterly elated that he was there at all, but tried her best to hide it.

Her movement from the back of the tent made Draco jump. He tilted his head, wondering why she was looking at him like she had seen a ghost. "Granger, why are you holding my cologne?"

Hermione turned bright red but ignored his question. Her embarrassment quickly turned into annoyance, "Where were you? I thought- I thought you had..."

Slowly, she became aware of the grocery bags. Still in a state of mingled shock and relief, she walked over to them.

Draco was confused at first, but quickly made the connection,  _She thought I had left her for good._

Something about how worried she was made him feel warm inside, that she would react that way to his absence. "You worried I'd leave you, Granger? After  _that_  little spat? You're not the easiest person to be around, that's for sure... but as you can tell, neither am I."

Hermione was back to being embarrassed and could hardly contain it. She remained still as he went back to unpacking groceries with his wand, food floating out onto the countertop.

It was difficult to decide what to do next. Their history was such that they never really 'made-up' after a fight; it would just linger on, festering until the next confrontation. Draco saw that she was still frozen, possibly embarrassed by the look of her reddened cheeks.  _Why is she gripping my cologne?_

"Do you like my cologne? I mean, if you are interested I can make you some of your own..."

He was trying to lighten the mood, but it only caused her to walk away to the bathroom. Moments later, she returned without the bottle and only stared at the groceries. Raising his eyebrows, he began to wonder if maybe she was still mad at him from earlier.

"Sorry it took a while, I had to go to the mainland to find an open store. Look, I got you some sweets, cherry lollies, and some chocolate."

Draco handed her to sweets in hope that it could represent an act of peace between them. She walked up closer to receive them.

_He got me sweets. Draco Malfoy has gone out to a Muggle store to get us supplies and bought me sweets!_

Hermione looked down at the brightly colored packaging. A multitude of feelings crept into her: maybe it was the intense relief of having him back when she thought he had gone, or maybe it was all the selfless gestures he had made lately. Either way, she had no idea what had come over her when she stepped closer to him, placing the sweets down onto the counter, and put her arms around his waist to give him a hug.

Draco stood there in shock.  _Hermione Granger is hugging me_.

He stalled for a second, but then wrapped his arms around her to reciprocate. It felt so natural, his entire body relaxed as he became engulfed by a feeling with no name, one that he had searched for his whole life.  _If this is all it took, I would have gotten her sweets ages ago._

He could smell her shampoo, cherry vanilla, and the aroma was so enticing that his head nearly came to rest against hers when she started to move out of the hug.

"Sorry, I just-...I just wanted to thank you for all the nice things that you've done." She stepped back and collected herself, straightening out her shirt. "Thanks for the sweets as well."

He smiled, wanting to say something meaningful and deep, but it did not feel right, so he opted instead for a different direction.

"I saw all of those sweets at the store, but I didn't really know what kind you liked, so I thought to myself,  _I should go get a bucket-full._ " He stared at her with raised eyebrows to emphasize the bad joke.

Hermione let out a short giggle, as it was unexpected. She liked that they already had an inside joke, even if it had caused the spat in the first place. But mostly, she liked that he had thought of her at all, especially after she had shouted at him.

Satisfied that he had made her laugh, Draco continued, "Ha, but I couldn't find a bucket and people were beginning to stare at me. I've never gone into that store, so it took me awhile to find things."

"Well they were probably staring at your platinum blond hair and thought you were some movie star."

"Yeah? Not many Muggles with this hair color, only the stars?"

Hermione smiled and looked up at his hair, wanting to run her hands through it, even just to make a joke, "Well, there are, but not many."

Draco smiled, "Well the way I was walking around, I'm sure I appeared clueless. They probably thought I was high on drugs or something."

Surprised by his turn-of-phrase, Hermione laughed a bit too loud for his comment, but she had never heard of Draco say anything pertaining to Muggle drugs before.

Leaning back against the counter, he wrinkled his nose, "What, did I say _that_ wrong too? Don't Muggles get  _high on drugs_?"

He said it in such a way, that it sounded like an older person who had used a phrase outside of their generation. It just set Hermione laughing even harder.

"No, it's not that you said it wrong exactly, it's just I have never heard you say anything like that at all... and, okay, also you said it a little funny."

Draco nodded and pushed himself off the counter, "Okay, Okay, Granger, you've had your fun. I bet you're loving that I am doing everything the Muggle way. Let's eat, I'm hungry..."

Hermione was still smiling from their banter and eventually calmed herself while they both picked out foods from the supplies Draco had bought.

Seeing that she was about to put the food on the table, he asked, "Do you want to go outside to eat? It's really nice out."

Smiling, Hermione looked up at him and nodded.

"Great, it's a date."

Hermione's heart jumped.  _Did he just call this a date? Or does he mean-_

He was already ahead of her on his way out of the tent, so she hurried behind to follow him out, feeling like she needed to clarify what he had meant.

"Don't take that the wrong way, Granger," he chided, as if he could tell what was running through her mind, "stop  _thinking_  and let's just eat."

But there was no stopping her thoughts, so she continued to think.  _How did he KNOW? He wasn't even LOOKING at me! Maybe he clarified, just in case, because he also found it confusing. Why is he always one step ahead of me? Okay, we're JUST... friends... sort of... Calm down and go outside and eat. With. Your. FRIEND. You can do this!_ A second later, she inwardly deprecated,  _Ugh, I'm a disaster. I mean, I just hugged him, he probably thinks I'm pathetic!_

They did not stray too far from the tent, sure to stay within the wards, and settled on a soft area of grass. They sat near each other and started eating their dinner, quietly enjoying the scenery.

It felt like ages ago, when Hermione had woken up in Draco's arms in that very spot. She remembered what he said about her tent that first day, and so she smiled to herself and looked up at him, and then out to the distant ocean. "Nice place you've got here."

Draco glanced up at her and then looked toward the ocean as well, a big smile slowly spreading onto his face. He understood her reference immediately and enjoyed the connection. He was also proud that she was enjoying his chosen location as much as he always had. In fact, Draco was certain this place had become more beautiful with his present company.

Once lunch was finished, Draco proposed they take a walk around the area. He had been there before, though it had been a long while, and thought he recalled a small lake not too far from where their tent was. Hermione readily agreed, but their walk was cut short as the air began to get noticeably cooler and they could see rain clouds appearing. Their newly found friendship had them slightly befuddled as to how to behave, since they had never been this amiable towards each other before.

Once they had returned to the tent, Draco set his potion's lab back up and started to re-organize, determined to make another batch of Hermione's special potion, just in case.

Hermione sauntered over, watching him place things in specific spots, "So, I noticed that when I get, well- scared or agitated, my legs begin to tingle and they stop working. Is there anything you have that could fix that?"

Draco grinned, "You mean something that would get Hermione Granger to  _relax_? I don't know if there is a potion in the  _world_  for  _that_!"

Hermione smiled sarcastically, "Hey, I already know I can be a bit of a nervous wreck, you don't have to remind me."

"Nothing I can't handle, Granger. The best I can add is something that'll probably make you sleepy. I wish I had more ingredients here to work with."

A little disappointed, she responded, "I hate to surrender to being asleep all the time, but I suppose if it helps me overcome this curse, maybe I should just commit to it."

Draco shrugged, "Alright, one leg-fixing-sleepy-cocktail comin' right up."

Hermione smiled softly; she liked this side of Draco, still sassy but more friendly. She wished she could rewrite their past with  _this_  energy between them instead of what it had actually been. After all, they were both passionate about learning, and probably could have been friends. On the downside, they both were determined in their own ways, which they would have to work on.

Not wanting to distract him, Hermione walked over to rummage through some books on a small shelf by the couch. The collection was hers, and she had probably read all of them six times each, at least. She stared at them, wondering which would be able distract her best. The light drumming of rain against the canvas of the tent made her glance wistfully at the empty grate of the wood-burning stove. "This would be a perfect time for a fire."

Draco looked over, "Did you say something?"

"I was just thinking out loud. It's raining and this would be a perfect time for a fire. It's a wood-burning stove."

"Oh yeah, I was wondering what was needed for that. I mean, I thought of using a fire-making spell, but it requires a fuel source to keep burning for any length of time and I didn't see any wood anywhere."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

Draco made an internal reminder about gathering some later. At the moment, he was focused on adjusting the potion for Hermione and almost had it complete. Turning to add a final ingredient, he reached up for it on the highest shelf in the kitchen. He paused when he noticed Hermione's wand. He had placed it up high so that she would not see from her sightline, but he was still surprised she had not found it sooner. Staring at it, he weighed the pros and cons of giving it back. After all, she had been worried when she thought he left, and he did feel guilty for making her feel defenseless.

Hermione had settled down on the couch with the book Dumbledore had bequeathed her,  _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ She had just got comfortable when Draco approached and handed over her wand.

"Here."

Hermione was taken back. "You trust that I won't hex you and run?"

Draco crossed his arms, "Well, I think you would have before, for sure. Anyway, I figured you'd want it to fix that hair of yours."

Hermione gasped at the affront and swung her book at him for a good hit. Snickering, he dodged her blow and quickly shuffled away.

"That wasn't too bright of you to insult a witch after you _just_  gave her wand back!"

Draco, safely back at the counter, shouted back, "Well, that just shows how brave I am I suppose."

"Well aren't you quite the Gryffindor?"

Draco winced and shook his head in disapproval.

"Don't worry, Draco, I won't tell anyone your secret."

It was fun to banter with him, and Hermione really did not want it to end. She admitted that it felt a lot more like flirting, though she did not have much experience with that. When he did not respond, she looked back and found that he was focused on his notes, but grinning slightly from her comment. She sat back, facing away from him while blankly staring at the page her book,  _Did he just give up? Maybe he's too focused on his potions. I should leave him alone._

She was taken aback when he suddenly appeared beside her on the couch, plopping down next to her. A moment later, she found herself more surprised that he was actually sitting next to her.

He presented her with a couple of vials. "Here you go, Granger. I added a hint of blue coloring to be able to tell which is the sleepy potion."

Hermione was once again impressed; he always seemed to do something clever, and she was not used to being with anyone who was this assertive.

"Thanks, I really appreciate that."

Draco could see that she was intensely admiring the three little vials. She looked as if she had just received a Christmas present, and it made him feel good. He had already admitted to himself that any praise from her was worth a lot more to him than she probably knew. If Hermione Granger thought something was brilliant then he figured he was doing something right.

He leaned in slightly to peek at the book she was holding. "Beedle the Bard, huh? Needing a good bedtime story?"

Hermione put the vials in her purse for safekeeping, then glanced down at her newly recovered wand, and responded, "Well, you don't know this but  _this_  book was a gift from Dumbledore. He stated in his will to give to  _me_."

Confused, Draco moved in a little closer to have a look, but she, in turn, handed it off to him.

"He gave you a children's book?"

Hermione explained, "Well, yes. See, on this page someone's drawn a triangle, circle, and line: these represent the Deathly Hallows from the Tale of the Three Brothers. The brothers collect certain items from Death: the elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility. But, the story isn't actually a fairytale. We... Ron and Harry and I, think it's real. There's an elder wand that Harry saw in a vision. He thinks it was Dumbledore's and You-Know-Who probably has it. It's  _very_  powerful."

Draco examined the symbol, but then had a flashback. "I disarmed Dumbledore that night..." His words faded away as he glanced at Hermione, then back down, clearly ashamed of that event. He had no wish to remind her of his past.

"Draco, it's in the past. You didn't  _kill_ him. I actually can't imagine the position you were in, but you  _chose_  not to."

Draco was quiet. She was far too forgiving. All of  _that_  night's events came flooding back, every instance plaguing his mind over what he could have done differently. He was young and scared then, and perhaps he still was.

Seeing that he had withdrawn deep into thought, Hermione felt like she needed to finally say something. "You know, you and Harry have a lot more in common than you might think. You're both great wizards and you're both constantly put in these  _suffocatingly_  dark situations. The big difference is that Harry was lucky to have people wanting to help him. People made him a hero before they even met him.  _You_  on the other hand... Well, no one thought to help you. Everyone assumed you came from privilege and had all the help you needed."

Draco stared at the worn armchair across from them, eyes trained on a loose thread he wanted to yank out. He could not fathom how Hermione even had those thoughts toward him, or anyone for that matter. She was right though, he would be a different person had anyone supported him from the other side, the side that made more sense now.

Draco could sense that he was taking too long to respond. He could feel her eyes on him, thinking, always thinking. But the subject was still too fresh for him to discuss, and he was not in the mood for pity. What he needed was to start again, to clarify their past.

"I'll be right back."

Hermione watched Draco walk away with regret.  _Oh great, I said too much. He's not ready for my opinions, why am I so-_

Interrupting her thoughts, Draco returned and sat next to her again, handing her a crinkled envelope.

"Here, it's... your letter."


	11. Transference

Hermione slowly reached for the letter and looked up at him.  _Wait, it really does exist? I mean- he was under the serum when he told me- I keep forgetting that_.

He looked visibly nervous and sat waiting.

"Oh! Did you want me to read it...  _right now_?"

"Well I mean- you don't have to... it wasn't like... I - You can read it later if you want."

Hermione studied his nervous reaction, and decided she quite liked watching Draco Malfoy stumble over his words. He appeared vulnerable again, like when he was sleeping peacefully in his bed.

"Okay, how about you go over there and let me read it alone? After all, thatwas how it was intended to be read the first time, right?"

Draco nodded and slowly stood up, watching her as he shoved his hands into his pockets. She was examining the envelope and then noticed he was still there, stalling. "Go! I want to read it!"

Grimacing, he walked away to the counter to fidget and clean his potion tools, though he glanced up to see her reactions every so often. While he waited, he took note of the Veritaserum that Hermione had been brewing, and to keep busy, he checked on its progress.

Over on the couch, Hermione carefully opened the envelope like a lost relic, finding an old parchment paper inside. There looked to be the remains of a red wax-seal that had crumbled from years of wear and tear. Glanced back to where Draco was, she saw that he was thankfully keeping busy by taking notes in his journal, so she quickly brought the parchment to her nose to inhale the letter.

It smelled good to her. She noted an added hint of jasmine, probably from being stored in his bag for so long. It made her think about how long he must have had to keep such a thing a secret, in an emergency bag.  _What else does he keep in there?_

She carefully unfolded the parchment and opened the letter to its full length. At a glance she recognized his writing, though it was slightly less tidy. A smaller note was also attached, and she noticed there were some drawings near the edges, which made her giggle quietly.

Back in the kitchen area, Draco heard Hermione's faint giggle,  _Oh Merlin, it's open. At least something in there is funny to her. I hope she doesn't find it offensive._

Hermione adjusted herself on the couch, tucking her legs under her and fully engaged in the letter:

_Dear Granger,_

_I was bored and decided to write to you. I thought that maybe next year I would try to be nicer to you because you're pretty clever and could use an equally clever friend. I think Potter and Weasley are a bit dim-witted and you are probably bored of them by now. I could also give you flying lessons. You did not seem that skilled in our flying lessons._

_What do Muggles do over summer break?_

_I will probably be traveling somewhere grand like Paris this year._

_Okay, have a good summer,_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy_

Hermione raised her eyebrows, wondering what her younger self would have thought about this letter.  _Would I have responded? ...Yes.._. She'd had a small crush on Draco when she first met him, thinking he was some prince from the magical world she had not yet heard of.

She focused on the extra small parchment attached:

_Coupon Good for One Free Flying Lesson._

Younger Draco had drawn decorative designs around the words, making it appear like a fancy movie ticket.  _He made me a coupon for a flying lesson?_

The letter had obviously been written by the arrogant Draco she recalled, but she could not help but find it endearing. She then looked over at the scratchy ink drawings in the margins of the letter.

In one, the Sorting Hat was making a funny face and shouting out 'Gryffindor.' Then, what she assumed was a stick-figure drawing of her with a triangle body for a dress and crazy, twirly hair in all directions, contained a sad face.  _Am I supposed to be sad that I got sorted into Gryffindor?_ Looking at it critically, she thought,  _Of course I am characterized by my messy hair!_

On the other side of the letter there was a second drawing, of a stick-figure boy flying on a broom, which she assumed was a smiling Draco.

This concluded the letter.

Hermione scanned it over a few more times. She felt special, as if her younger self had just received that letter.

Draco anxiously waited, wondering why she was taking so long. After a few more minutes, Hermione called, "Okay, I'm done!"

Draco exhaled and apprehensively made his way back over, not taking his eyes off her. He wanted to know what she thought, as if he had only written it yesterday. He sat across from her this time, in the mangy armchair, in order to get a good look at her reaction.

"So, you think I need a flying lesson, huh? And I am also just  _so_  sad to having been sorted into Gryffindor?"

Draco was relieved to see she was taking it lightly. He attempted to hide any blushing embarrassment with a grin, "Well,  _have_ you learned to fly yet? That has no expiration date on it."

" _Yes_! And I'm not 'great' because I have a  _fear_  of flying!"

"Well  _that_ , I do not have a coupon for."

Hermione nodded, "I enjoyed the letter. I think... I would have written you back..."

"Really?"

"Well, why not? Though, I might have hesitated because you were enemies with Harry and Ron in first year. At the very least, I would have responded just to put you in your place, or maybe not, who knows. At least I would have been writing to someone at all! Harry and Ron weren't all that responsive to letters."

Draco pointed to the letter. "Well, that is because they're  _dim-witted_."

Hermione had to laugh. It was strange that Draco, a childhood nemesis, had been all too eager to write to her, while her closest friends had been lacking. She had always felt that she had tried harder to be friends with Harry and Ron than they had with her - but here, in this letter, a younger Draco had actually made an effort to befriend her, even despite all their aggression.

Reflecting on these thoughts, Hermione grew calm, "If we had been friends-"

Draco quickly cut her off, "It wouldn't have lasted."

Offended, Hermione stared at him.  _Did he mean I would not be good enough for him, or the other way around?_

Following her thought process, he continued before she could allow her thoughts to spiral out of control, "I mean, look at what happened to the letter in the first place. It was taken. Even if we became friends, my parents would have found out and punished me or something. And the Dark Lord was slowly rising and obviously succeeded in his power... you wouldn't have been safe being my friend."

Hermione exhaled, placing the letter beside her on the couch.  _I wonder how long he's thought that?_  It frustrated her that the Voldemort had this type of control over everyone's fate. Looking up at Draco, she met his eyes, "All the more reason we need to take this arsehole down."

Draco's eyes grew wide. He had never seen this side of Hermione, at least when it was not aimed at him. He nodded, "I hope we can. But for now, let's get something to eat, then you need to rest after."

She tucked the letter into her bag and followed her new friend to the kitchen, with a different perspective.

Hermione decided to make a small cooked meal for them, figuring it was the least she could do after all of Draco's efforts. As she took out all of the ingredients for roasted vegetables with chicken, Draco watched with intrigue. Reaching for one of the kitchen knives to begin cutting up the vegetables, it took her a moment to remember that she had her wand now.

As she reached for it, Draco interjected, "We really shouldn't be using too much magic... unless it's for  _your_  potions and for sure...  _your hair_. Besides, I want to see you use the knife."

Hermione had fixed her hair at her first opportunity so that it was much softer, with wavy curls she could actually wear down. When she glared at him, Draco snickered, but really, she was taking this opportunity to watch his lips and his smile. He had a small amount of stubble that highlighted his lips and she imagined for a second what it would be like to kiss them. Resolving that he probably did not reciprocate that feeling, she scolded herself over her small fantasy.

Trying to focus instead on his comment, she brandished both the knife and her wand, "This time I have  _two_  weapons in hand and yet again, you choose to insult me. Brave or dumb? I really don't know."

Draco only shrugged.

Hermione shook her head, but as requested, she continued to use the knife to chop the vegetables. She sensed that he was watching her and glanced up to confirm that he was. "Is this odd for you to see? Using a knife?

"It's not odd but I don't often get to witness it for cooking. You're pretty skilled there."

She smiled going back to her focus and Draco continued to watch her make the whole dinner the Muggle way. He imagined what her life would be like outside of Hogwarts in her own personal home. Questions he was not ready to bother her with like; do they teach Muggle children to cook at a young age? Does it take up time for which they could be learning other things? What else do they do that houseleves usually tend to?

Once it was ready to eat and Hermione had got it on a plate at the table, Draco took a bite and admired how good it tasted. "Not bad, Granger. I had no idea you had a talent for cooking, maybe it's something for  _you_  to fall back on."

She understood that he was mocking her for her Quidditch comment from the other day, but could not help imagining it from his point of view. To him, this talent was probably no better than a house elf. Attempting to quell her usual speech about house elves, she only remained quiet.

"I'm kidding, Granger. Everyone knows you have many talents..." looking up at her, he mumbled the rest, "besides flying."

Hermione teasingly picked up a carrot from her plate and threw it at him, where it bounced off of his shoulder before falling to the floor.

"You can't just compliment someone can you? There's always a sassy remark to follow!"

"Ha, I guess I've never noticed. But being such a good  _friend_  I'm sure you'll forgive me."

Hermione smiled to herself and shook her head, admiring is table etiquette in every bite, unlike Ron ever had been. She guessed that he had obtained proper table mannerisms from his upbringing.

After they finished their dinner, Hermione decided to take a vial of the blue-tinted potion to help her relax.

"I'm off to bed," she announced. "Hopefully, with your additives to the potion, I'll sleep without any disruptions."

Draco nodded, "Okay, Granger, goodnight."

They both departed to their separate bed areas, switched off their tent lights, and closed their curtains for privacy while they settled to sleep.

As Draco changed into his pajamas, he remembered to cover the Dark Mark on his forearm. This was as much because he preferred not to look at it himself, as a precaution in case Hermione should wake up again like last night. It was too warm to wear long sleeves, so he had to think of what to  _accio_  from his bag before recalling he had an emergency kit. Summoning it, he wrapped some medical tape around his forearm to cover the mark. As he pulled the tape around his forearm, the mark slowly disappearing, he thought,  _She's finally read that letter, and she liked it! It's strange not to have it any more. Is she finally trusting me? I honestly thought it would take longer. How is she so forgiving? I've never been around someone so... there isn't even a word for it._

He finished his wrapping and placed the leftover tape inside, before it occurred to him what else he had in his bag, though he had forgotten what the exact name of it was.

He reached in, pushing aside a multitude of things. He could hear the sound of all kinds of loose change clinking around, and wished he had separated the Muggle money from the magic. Finally, his hands landed on what he was looking for and he pulled the items out and studied them, smiling to himself. It was something else from his childhood that he could share with her, but this would be something they can both have now. Satisfied and looking forward to the next day, he quietly drew open his curtains before he rolled over to sleep, not wanting anything more dividing them.

After a few hours of sleep, Draco woke abruptly. He took a deep breath, wondering what the noise was this time until there was a bright blue flash from behind Hermione's curtains. He quickly got up, grabbed his wand, and went directly to her bed.

He paused, listening. Another flash of the blue light, even brighter this time, was accompanied by her scream and the shaking of her bed.

_Another nightmare! What is she doing, casting spells in her sleep?_

He cautiously opened the curtains to find Hermione in the corner again, wand in hand with her other arm guarding her head. Draco thought about what to do, since he did not want her hitting him with a spell. She was hardly aware of his presence so he cast a disarming charm to relieve her of her wand. It flew out of her hand and he caught it. Her screaming flared up again, and she now had both hands over her head as if she were blocking a dragon's fire.

"Granger, you're having another bad dream, it's okay, you're safe."

She heard his voice and instantly stopped screaming. He removed her hands from her head, and noted that she appeared to be coming back to reality.

Breathing hard, Hermione glanced around, her eyes landing Draco. Even without much light, she could see his light hair in the darkness. "Draco? Is that you?"

Switching on a small tent light, he answered, "Yes, it's me. You okay?"

She looked around and nodded. "Was I? ...Nightmare?"

"You nearly hexed me. I have your wand, but maybe it would be safer to put it away while you sleep."

She nodded; while her breathing had settled, the nightmare was still fresh in her mind.

"Granger, are you okay to go back to sleep?"

She looked up at him and stared. Though she felt exhausted, going back to sleep was the last thing she wanted to do right now. When she did not respond, he began to turn away. She stopped him with a whisper, "Draco... can you stay?"

Draco's heart rate sped up. Of course he would stay, he would probably do anything if she asked him. After a moment's hesitation, he replied, "Yes."

She looked relieved. "Thanks, sorry I woke you up  _again_. The nightmare is still fresh in my head..."

Unsure if she wanted him to stand there, pull up a chair, sit beside her, or lay down, Draco opted to sit on the edge of the bed and wait for her to give him a cue.

For a moment, Hermione felt foolish when she saw that Draco was politely hanging halfway outside of her bed, but was distracted when she noticed a bandage around his arm. First, she worried that maybe he had been hurt, but then remembered what was under it. She looked down at her own scar on her forearm and took a deep breath.

Draco followed her eye to her arm, "Need to wrap that up?"

She looked up at him quickly, then nodded. It was not painful, but seeing it right then reminded her of the nightmare. Draco turned toward his bed to summon the medical tape, then turned to back hand it to her. To his surprise, she stretched out her arm. Glancing up at her, he shifted closer. It was strange; the night before, he had been completely in her bed, and he had also carried her many times, but this time, she was  _asking_  for him to be next to her. She expected a friend, and it made him more nervous than ever.

He unraveled some tape and held her arm with one hand, wrapping it gently around her scar with his other, forgetting that this could all be done with his wand. When he was done, he lifted his head slightly to admire his work.

"There, now we match," he announced, shifting right beside to her and touching his own wrapped forearm to hers. He looked up to see if she approved, and finding her smile, he felt proud that he had made her feel that way.

Hermione studied her forearm, nervously avoiding his eyes. He had never this close to her, not even when he had carried her so many times before. For some reason, this seemed to be by far the most intimate they had been. "Thank you, Draco."

When she glanced up at him, she found him already gazing at her. In a soft, unspoken moment between them, she could feel the connection of his body leaning against hers, and the ease and intensity of being near him this way.

Slowly dropping his arm, he cleared his throat and whispered, "You should probably get some rest, Granger."

Hermione looked from his eyes to his mouth as he spoke, as if she could not have heard him unless she watched his lips move. She managed a nod in agreement, her heart racing again, but this time it was not from nightmares.

It took everything for Draco not to kiss her. He chastised himself for even thinking it,  _She asked me to stay out of fear, not for me to snog her!_  He moved away to allow a sliver of space between them in the medium-sized bed, just large enough for two people to lay a pillow between them. He stayed sitting up, leaning on the back wall and watching her as she hesitantly lay down onto her side.

"I'll be right here."

Draco had never shared a space with someone like this before and so far, it felt easy and comfortable.

He used his wand to switch off the light, and held both of their wands together. Leaning his head back, he checked intermittently to see if she had fallen to sleep, and wondered if he would be able to get any rest like this. It took a while, but eventually Draco could sense when Hermione had fallen asleep, as her breathing became a steady rhythm and her energy had dulled. Closing his eyes, he made an attempt at resting himself, and after a long while, the sound of her breathing caused him to doze off.

He woke himself back up when he felt his head drop quickly to the side. It took him a moment to remember where he was, until he looked down at the sleeping form that was Hermione. Though he was groggy, the logical side of his brain recognized,  _I'll never sleep sitting up this way. I wonder if it would be wrong of me to lay down... Would that creep her out? Maybe if I move as far away as possible? Her bed is a decent size to leave some room between us..._

Too tired to rationalize his actions any further, he slumped down into a lying position as far as he could be to the edge of the bed. Turning slowly onto his stomach so as not to disturb her, he realized,  _I'm lying down next to Hermione Granger_.

Draco smiled to himself and slowly fell back asleep. For the rest of the night, they slept soundly next to one another without any interrupting nightmares.

Eventually, Hermione awoke, as morning sunlight entered the room. She could sense that something was different, and when she turned, she saw Draco on his stomach, asleep and facing toward her. She froze before recalling that she had asked him to stay.

She did not really know what to do in that moment, but at least her legs were working. Shifting to sit up and leaned against the back of the bed, Hermione took a quick study of Draco as he slept. His right arm was under a pillow which his head was lying on top of, and his other arm, the one wrapped in bandages, was by his side holding both of their wands. She looked down at her own forearm, finding it was still wrapped up as well, and it made her smile.

She watched as he breathed quietly through his nose, and was very tempted to touch his hair as some strands had fallen into his eyes. Resisting the urge, she continued to observe him. His T-shirt had bunched up, exposing some of his lower back and she felt a bit sheepish when she glanced lower toward his bum. The plaid lines on his blue pajama bottoms seemed to trace every curve of him down to his legs.

_By Godric's sword, give me strength: he's beautiful. And... he's in my bed. I have never had someone sleep in my bed before._ Bringing her fingernail to her mouth, she had to stop herself from nibbling it off.  _There was a moment last night where I thought he could possibly kiss me, or me him, but he stopped it. Maybe he just doesn't feel that way about me. Or maybe he was being polite because I'd just had a nightmare._ She buried her hands in her face. _I need to calm down... but Draco Malfoy is in my bed!_ She peeked between her fingers to look at him again.  _Is he even slightly interested in me? I wish I could just... just touch him. Why do I feel like he is untouchable? He's just a guy! No, he's different... and he smells so good..._

Draco's cologne had most definitely added a pleasant aroma to her bed space. He had his own scent though too, and she enjoyed the combination of both. She felt strangely safer next to him and wondered if maybe his presence had helped her sleep. Oddly, she could not figure out how she had fallen asleep at all.

_My legs are fine right now, but maybe I can pretend they aren't. That would add a few more days with him... just to get to know him better._

Then, Hermione was filled with guilt again: while she was sitting here gushing over Draco and resting in this peaceful place, there was a war going on out there.

Just the other day she had been searching for ways to shorten her time here, to go find Harry and Ron, but now all she wanted to do was be here in this haven, with Draco.

Her mind filled with thoughts of Ron and their tempestuous relationship. Though there might have been something between them, she could not help but think that whatever it was, was never as deep or intense as the feelings she had building for Draco. As her friend, Ron felt safe, but when she began developing feelings for him, she felt constantly rejected and let down. Moments with Ron were met mostly with frustration and wanting things that he might never be able to give her. Looking back now, it was not really his fault... maybe he was just not her match.

_But what if Draco doesn't feel that way about me, or ever would? Maybe I'm being foolish, but there is something between us... something more... I can feel it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://media.giphy.com/media/j0NHSWpfglj8b6GI3t/giphy.gif)   
> 


	12. Friendship

Figuring that if she was going to wait for Draco to wake, Hermione decided she might as well read. Quietly, she grabbed her bag to search for a book, but managed to pull out his letter instead. She reviewed it again, smiling to herself, then put it back into a safe place before eventually selecting something else to read.

Even asleep, Draco must have sensed a change in the room because he stirred and began to open his eyes. He looked up to find Hermione with a large book in front of her. Stretching, he spoke a low, grumbly voice, "Granger, if you ever make it onto a chocolate frog card, your picture will be of you reading a book."

She smiled, "Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?"

Draco slowly sat up, half-facing the outside edge of the bed, "Actually, I did. I'm convinced your bed is a lot more comfortable than mine. But I gather that you knew that."

She laughed, "It is, and you better not tell Harry or Ron."

He understood that she only meant she had cheated them out of a more comfortable bed during their travels, but it gave him more information than she probably realized. First, it meant that neither Potter or Weasley had slept in her bed. Second, maybe she did not want her friends to find out that he had been there.

"Legs any good?"

She hesitated,  _Should I lie? I would probably mess it up if I did._

"Actually, they seem to be better. I haven't had to take any potion this morning." To prove it, she wiggled her toes and showed him the vials she had not used.

"Good to know. No potion so far... this can count as day one. Maybe we'll be leaving sooner than we thought." He began to leave her bed, but before he made it too far, he realized he had both their wands and handed hers back.

"Thanks."

Draco gave her a soft smile, "Do you mind if I use the shower? Or did you want to use it first?"

She shook her head, "No, go ahead."

She sensed the awkwardness that had arisen between them, as they were both responding politely toward one another, too politely. Something had clearly changed, and Hermione was trying to remember how to act natural around him.

If her legs did begin working for good, or even just for longer periods of time, Hermione knew she should really start preparing to meet up with the Order, or better yet, Harry and Ron. So, she changed, got out of bed, and set up some parchment and a quill on the table. After making some toast, plus tea for her and coffee for Draco, she brought everything to the table and sipped her tea while she thought.  _I should put together a list of what we know, see if Draco can help with things he knows about Voldemort, how to meet up if we are separated..._

Hermione took this time to write down all her thoughts on a list so that she could review it with him. Then she became distracted by  _other_  thoughts, namely those along the lines of Draco in the shower.

After his shower, Draco emerged from the back of the tent and smelled coffee. Looking over at Hermione, he found her seated in front of a mug of tea and a plate of toast. At the table across from her was a cup of coffee and a plate of toast for him. It might have seemed a simple thing, but he enjoyed the small gesture as it revealed that she was actually considering of him. He had never had that kind of relationship with someone before.

As she sat, she looked up at him, "We should be prepared for when it's time to leave. I was hoping you would go over my notes, see if you have anything to add..."

After taking his first sip of coffee, Draco glanced down at the old parchment paper. On it was her list of ideas, questions, and possible strategies for finding horcruxes. Her handwriting stopped just short of cursive, but with a softness around the edges of her letters. She had crossed-out a lot of things and replaced them with other words, and it struck him that her handwriting reflected how her brain worked: purposeful, yet brave, and honest when it came to not to hiding her mistakes.

"Yeah, I can add to this. Are you sure you don't mind?"

Hermione handed over the quill and he began to write. As the first silk of ink bled into the paper, she suddenly felt like their truce had finally been solidified. The parchment now contained an alliance of ideas and she noted again how his script personified his character, watching as it intertwined around hers.

When he came to her note for contacting and finding one another if separated, he said, "Oh I have something for this..."

Draco went to find the items from the other night that he planned to show her. Holding them up into the light, he felt a small flutter of excitement to finally be able to use them. When he came back, he presented two long, silver chains with disk-like medallions dangling off of each.

"These are  _secreto gemellus epistula_ medallions. I picked them up at a magic antique collector's store before we started at Hogwarts. I was foolish enough to think that I would find a friend I'd want to share them with, but once you set them up, you can't change the users."

Hermione examined one of them closely. "It means 'secret twin' or 'matching messages'?"

Draco nodded.

There were a number of archaic etchings around the metal and she recalled reading about such items. "Are these from the era when people had to hide their magic?"

Draco looked pleased that she knew the history and nodded again.

"So how do they work exactly?"

"See the lettering around the edges? By default, it matches the alphabet, but once you want to communicate, you adjust them to spell out your message, which is mirrored on the other."

The images on the edge of the disk were letters that started from A to Z and back full circle to it again. After studying it a moment, Hermione thought they looked adjustable, like a bike lock she once had, only this one had twenty-six letters with which to spell out words. She pushed at them with the tip of her finger and noted that some of the letters had indeed moved just like her lock.

"Okay, so you have to spin these one at a time to create words for a message?"

Draco nodded, "If I recall from the seller, once the spell is cast, you just hold the center and concentrate on a message, and it will move the letters for you. But I suppose if you were not magical, you would have to do it manually. I would imagine the magic would still work to send the message, but we should test it to be sure."

Hermione nodded, feeling thankful that they operated on magic as it could otherwise take awhile to create each message. It also meant that if her wandless magic failed, she would still be able to get a message across to him.

"This seems ideal, except, using it so often could attract attention."

Excitedly, Draco responded, "No, see that's the beauty of it: the ancients were so paranoid about being discovered, they made it so no other person, or spell, could discover it. They can communicate across far distances while only leaving the smallest traces of magic. In fact, once it's around your neck, only the owner can see it, but once it's taken off it becomes invisible, even to the owner. You would have to remember where you placed it every time!"

Hermione thought on this for a moment, "So you couldn't use magic to find it, even if you're the owner?"

"Nope, it was created to  _not_  be found if lost."

Hermione was intrigued, "So, if I have one and you have the other, no one else can see or use them?"

"Nope. Not for as long as they exist. We, as the owners, could destroy them if we wanted, I suppose..."

Hermione had never been given something like  _this_  to share before, though she did make those Protean coins for Dumbledore's army. It reminded her of the time turner entrusted to her by Professor McGonagall, and it got her wondering, "You don't have to register this with the Ministry?"

Draco shook his head, "They're only used to communicate and there aren't many left anymore. I suppose they're hardly considered a threat."

Hermione studied it, feeling the weight of it in her hands, amazed that she had such a relic in her grasp. She looked up at Draco who was untwisting the chain of his from sitting so long without use,  _He's had this for so long_ ,  _and he wants to share this... with me?_

He looked up at her, "Something wrong?"

"No. I was just thinking... we should test them."

Draco was excited to finally be able to use them with someone. Pulling out the parchment they had come with, he quickly scanned the instructions on how to activate the medallions. "It says here that each person must place their chain around their neck..." He read ahead to discover something he had forgotten. "Oh, wait. We have to draw a drop of blood to wet the center of the medallion while holding them. This allows it to recognize the owner. Then, there's a spell to speak out together at the same time."

Draco glanced up at Hermione to see if she was okay with that.

"It sounds simple enough," she said brusquely, "what's the rest say?"

Though not surprised by her interest, he was slightly taken back by her eagerness to become the sole communicator of the medallion,  _with him._  Maybe she had not completely understood that he had waited years and years to pick someone to share it with. Maybe she assumed that he had just forgotten about it and that now was a convenient time to put it into good use. Draco wanted to let her know, but feeling pathetic, he instead tried to enjoy the moment or being able to share this prized object with someone he trusted.

"The rest are instructions for use..."

They looked up, each silently studying the other to give them chance to back out. Instead, Hermione went to get a knife from the kitchen, leaving Draco grinning to himself. Placing the knife on the table, she bravely offered her hand. He raised his eyebrows, slowly picking up the knife.

"Okay, slow down there, little lion. Only a small drop is needed." He pulled her hand closer to him, looking up at her again, "Are you sure you want  _me_ to?"

She nodded, tensing her body and scrunching her nose. She waited, but nothing happened, and looked up to see him paused in action, blade just about to touch the tip of her finger. She dropped her shoulders and sighed, "Draco, it's fine just-OW!"

"Sorry, you were just so tense..."

Hermione grimaced and took the knife from him. It still had a bit of her blood on it but he did not object when she quickly ran the knife into the pad of his forefinger. Draco winced from the short pain and Hermione puffed out a giggle.

"Shut up, Granger..."

She rolled her eyes, concentrated back on the medallion.

He picked up his, too, and looked up at her to confirm, "Okay, ready? Grab the center and we'll count down to say the spell together."

She nodded, grabbing the medallion already hanging around her neck, and settling her pricked finger over the center so that her blood touched the metal. They both looked at one another, both necklaces visible. Holding up the parchment with the instructions, Draco showed her the word to speak.

Nodding that she understood, Hermione thought the ancient spell looked like Latin, and was sure it meant 'to activate'.

"1, 2, 3..."

In unison they spoke, " _Actuare._ "

Each of their medallions glowed red and began to fade in and out. Then, the glow turned green for a few seconds before fading away entirely. The letters on the edge spun like dials before coming back to rest in their original placement.

"Okay, I think that's it," Draco decided, "want to test them?"

They looked up at each other. Hermione could not see his anymore.

Draco looked at the instructions for use and began to read them aloud: "Hold medallion at center and focus on the word or phrase. Words must fit within the twenty-six-letter English alphabet. The message should then appear on both devices, and will remain there until another has been created by either user. When each message is created, the device will vibrate and hum to notify the user. Alert is only detectable by owner." He went on, "There's also a 'notes' section: Keep device around neck or place somewhere for user to find. Device will be only visible or heard by blood owner when around their neck. Device disappears to all, once removed and can only be felt by touch from blood owner." He glanced over them again, "Okay, that's it"

The next moment, Hermione could feel the medallion vibrating against her chest, while a short, but soothing, humming sound alerted her to the new message. She examined the edge of her disk. It read: 'gryffindor-nerd.'

The spaces seemed to use a dash between the letters and Hermione decided there must be more symbols on each dial, such as numbers. Smiling at his message, she focused on her reply.

Moments later, Draco could feel his own medallion vibrating and humming. He picked it up to read: '#1-slytherin-sneak.'

He grinned. "Ha! It looks like you aren't holding anything. We might look a bit loony if someone saw us."

She agreed, "It  _does_  look a bit odd... perhaps we shouldn't use them directly in front of others to avoid that."

"Think you can manage that, Granger?" As Hermione tended to be pretty transparent, Draco skeptically considered the odds of Hermione successfully hiding anything from someone. At her shocked look, he continued, "I mean will you be able to hide this from  _your boys_?"

Looking up, she studied him to determine if he was actually worried, or just teasing her about her lack of sneakiness. "I've kept plenty of secrets in my time... still do! Besides, it's not like I have any reason to hide a communication device from  _my boys_."

Draco stared at her, wondering if she had actually thought that through. "Yeah, a secret, one-person-only communication device with  _me_. Did you already forget  _they_  still hate me? Your Weasel  _boyfriend_  will lose his shit..."

Hermione's eyes widened, "He's  _not_  my boyfriend... you know, romantically anyway. I have no idea how you came to thatconclusion."

Draco grinned, "Alright, Granger, I was just pointing out the complications of sharing this with them. I just don't see myself and Weasley frolicking in a field together, or whatever you Gryffindors do in your downtime..."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "I know what you mean and yes, I can keep the device a secret until we _both_  feel that Ron  _and_  Harry have warmed up to you... and...  _music._.."

Draco gave her a strange look.

She clarified, "I listen to music in my downtime. Sometimes while reading."

He now understood, and while there was a small silence Hermione offered an exchange.

"How about I lend you my CD player, if I can read through your little science journals. I've exhausted all my books in reach."

Draco was secretly curious on what this 'CD player' was, assuming it was some Muggle device he thought he had heard of before but never quite understood its function. He shrugged,  _If she feels like reading through my potion journals what would be the harm?_

"Okay Granger, I could do with a bit of music."

They both got up, Draco retrieving his journals while Hermione fetched her CD player and a handful of CDs she thought he might like. Noticing him take a seat at the couch, she handed him the CD player with headphones. He looked perplexed when she piled the CD cases on the couch next to him.

While staring at the device curiously, he handed her the journals and she took them to sit at the other end of the couch. Smiling to herself, she opened one of the journals while peeking over the top to see Draco messing with the CD player. After waiting for him to swallow his pride and ask her how to use it, she wrinkled her nose when he figured it out only one minute later, though she was sure he did not know what the other CD cases were for yet.

Hermione scanned Draco's meticulous notes on multiple potion recipes while she twirled the new medallion between her fingers.

Happening to pick a journal with edits for Amortentia, she flipped through, wondering if he had actually tested it on anyone. She paused when she came across a unique note: 'DLM results: cherry, vanilla and old parchment.'

She stared at the words in disbelief.


	13. Discovery

Hermione looked closer at Draco's notes in his journal were he had recorded dates of when the Amortentia potion was tested, ranging back from first year, up until only a few months ago, with the same results.

 _Those are clearly his initials..._ Hermione's mind started reeling.  _Those items-I love old parchment, and my shampoo... Is Draco attracted to ME? I mean, he admitted to wanting to know me in that letter after first year... but I didn't assume-_ She flipped to the next page, inspecting it as if to find more detail. Disappointed to find nothing more, she flipped it back.  _I mean I've always used that shampoo, but actually, I honestly can't recall when I started..._  She flipped to the next page again. _Maybe this isn't about me. Get over yourself, Hermione..._

Though she could feel the heat in her face, she dared to glance up at Draco.

Draco was deep in thought from the song he had just heard. He felt as if the lyrics were referring to him directly. He found that the underlying emotion and style of the song connected to him in such a way that it nearly disturbed him. He chided himself,  _It was just a song, a lot of songs express deep emotions._ But this one had felt like it was about  _them_ , at least from his perspective.  _She just likes this artist, who knows if she even likes this particular song._

Sensing that he was being watched, he glanced up to find that Hermione was bright red and staring at him.

He pulled off the headphones, "Did you say something?"

Stalling for a moment, Hermione thought quickly, "Oh, um, why do you have samples of my hair, and others in your case?"

Draco remembered, "Oh, think I'd use it for polyjuice potion, huh? Nah, it was for testing potion potency on different hair types... male versus female, and so on..."

She tilted her head suspiciously, mainly to keep up the pretense that  _this_  was why she had been staring at him, "Creep."

Grinning at her, he shrugged, "I can get rid of them if you want." As he began to put the headphones back on.

She smiled, "Who am I to stop science? ...Like any songs?"

Draco glanced up and paused slightly. Deciding not to be specific, he only nodded.

Hermione smiled. She somehow enjoyed that Draco Malfoy approved of her musical choices. Then she looked over to the little stove, and then continued back to read his journals, until she was distracted by the familiar tingling sensation in her legs. Sighing, she pulled one of the vials from her purse, noting that it was a blue tint meant to relax her but really caused her to become very sleepy.

Watching her open the vial and sip it down, Draco picked up his medallion to send her a message.

After the last drop from the vial, Hermione noticed her medallion alert and she lifted it to read; 'sorry-back-to-day-zero.'

She looked up at Draco with a half-smile and shrugged. Neither seemed bothered by the delay.

As Hermione continued flipping through the journals, she wondered if Draco remembered that he had made those notes about the Amortentia.  _Does he want me to find out? Would he care? Should I bring it up? ...no. Is it possible that we both... like each other? That would mean he has liked me for a long time, and basically still does! Is that why he saved me?_

If her conclusions were correct, all the pieces of the puzzle would finally fit into place. Her stomach fluttered and she felt a warm sensation at the thought. After all, he had done so much for her recently, and she decided that if she were someone on the outside looking in at their recent interactions, she would think it obvious.

Hermione began to bend a small corner of a journal page,  _Okay, if I were to assume it was true... now what? I mean, I clearly have feelings for him now, but has it even been a week? Maybe learning so much about him has made it feel longer._ Then she unbent the folded corner, diligently smoothing it back out.  _Okay, think logically: I had a crush on him in our youth, then for a short time before we left Hogwarts. Was it more like pity and suspicion that I kept my eye on him?_ She sighed while tracing her finger along his notes, the curves of his S's and the swing of his lower-case Y's. _But superficially, I have always been attracted to him. But now that I've gotten to know him better, I like him again?_ Lightly closing the journal and rolling her head back, _Ugh, I do! Now what?_

She looked down to pick up another journal, suddenly remembering the last CD she had listened to on her player, specifically a song that reminded her of him or,  _them_  really. _I wonder if he has listened to that one yet? He'll probably think it's stupid._ She glanced up at him only to find that he was already looking at her.

Draco felt the blood drain from his face because he had just recalled that he had put his initials next to  _his_  Amortentia results in his journal.

_Shit! I forgot about the small area where I put mine... which will be really obvious! Maybe she didn't see it, I can't tell what journal she was just reading. Would she say something?_

Hermione had given him a small wave to possibly break his obvious stare, which only added to his humiliation. He smiled quickly then looked away, hoping she would go back to her reading.

 _What would she think if she found out that it was her? She already thinks I'm a creep for having her hair in my kit-damn it, now I'm a Death Eater and a creep, and in-love?_ Draco sighed, gripping the CD player and noting that it made the song skip. _She's probably just being nice until she can walk and get out of here away from me!_

Hermione felt the drowsiness of the potion hit her and shuffled lower on the couch to rest her head. Before long, she had fallen asleep.

Draco dared to look up at her while holding the CD player steady so it would not skip again.  _At least she fell asleep to my boring journals instead of feeling creeped out. Maybe she didn't even read that part. Should I take her to her bed?_

Figuring that she would be more comfortable there than on the couch, he resolved to move her. He got up and slowly took the journal from her hands, feeling relieved to note that it was not the journal he had put his initials in. His eyes scanned over to the small pile by her right, the ones that she had already read.

Right there on top, was the journal he had feared. He stood there in front of her with his hands gripping the back of his neck.  _She knows. She has to, she's too clever not to figure it out._ He crossed his arms to think more,  _But she didn't seem to react, maybe because of the potion? She did seem a little embarrassed by the collection of hairs, but then, that isn't even in the pile of journals she was reading._ Draco abruptly dropped his arms to his side.  _Ah! That was her way of covering up, well played, Granger._ He began to rub at the stubble on his face.  _Well, I don't know what will come from her knowing, I mean who knows if she could ever like me like that... maybe it's time to make a move. What do I have to lose? Worst-case, she leaves and I become a fugitive Death Eater in hiding, right? Maybe that's what I deserve anyway..._

Leaning down to pick her up, he carried her in the same manner he had done over the past week whenever her legs had failed. This time, to his surprise, she sleepily placed her hand around his neck and leaned her head against his chest. He paused, knowing she had done it almost subconsciously while asleep, and wondering if the quick thumping of his heart would wake her. Without really thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed the center of her forehead.

_I can't believe I JUST did that! But it felt so... natural. She didn't seem to notice, anyway. I think._

Laying her down in the bed and shifting her to her side, he made a second trip to get her purse and wand before closing the curtains to block out the midday light as best he could.

Thoughts of what to do or possibly, what not do about Hermione discovering his secret had him craving some fresh air. Glancing at the empty grate in the stove, he decided,  _This would be a good time to get that firewood._

Hermione woke up, surprised to discover that she was in her bed instead of on the couch where she had last remembered being.  _He took me to bed? Is it still daytime?_

She sat up and slid open her curtains. From the light in the tent she guessed it was late afternoon.  _That potion really made me sleepy, maybe it's too strong to drink mid-day._

Noticing that Draco had been considerate enough to leave her wand and purse near her, she stood and made her way out into the main part of the tent, but could not see him anywhere.

"Draco?" A familiar panic rose like when he had left to run errands. It was only then that she had became aware of her ability to detect his presence, or lack thereof. The air seemed sparse and light, like a thin sheet, whereas when he was around, it was heavy and safe like a comforter. She reassured herself that he was probably nearby.

Growing hungry, she grabbed an apple from the kitchen, pretending not to check if the bathroom was occupied. Taking a bite of the apple, she thought,  _Okay, he's not back there. Maybe he's outside?_

She took another bite as she made her way to the tent opening. Noticing the dark clouds moving quickly overhead, she could feel a soft breeze carrying a hint of chill that teased her hair.

 _He's not here either,_  she confirmed. From the smell in the air, it would likely rain soon.  _He didn't leave a note again, wait-_

Already forgetting about her medallion, she reached down to see if he had left a message to her there, but it was not where she had left it. Frowning, she traced the back of her neck where the chain had hung, but found nothing there either. As if she might find it waiting for her by her feet, she looked down before remembering that if it was not around the owner's neck, it remained invisible.

"Oh no!" She dropped the apple and turned back to head inside. Even though she would not be able see it, she found herself scrutinizing every object in the tent... every surface... every place she might have stepped...  _Okay, where did I have it last? Retrace steps... Couch!_ She scrambled over to the couch, where she combed every inch of the area, with no result.  _Floor? Bed? Bathroom? It could be anywhere! Draco is going to think I'm an idiot!_

Meticulously searching the inside the tent, Hermione scoured places she had not even been since Draco had actually given her the medallion. When her hunt continued to prove fruitless, she became desperate. Heavy drops of rain had begun drumming against the canvas tent and she accepted that she would have to check outside, even in the rain.

Down on her knees in the rain-soaked grass, she imagined she looked like Harry searching for his glasses. _Where is this thing? I've been searching for an hour at least, and where's Draco? He probably left a message, but I'll NEVER know!_ She paused. Her clothes were soaked through. Tossing her head back in frustration, she succumbed to the unrelenting rain, allowing it to render her completely sodden.  _He had one person to pick to share the device, and he chose idiot me!_

She was on the verge of crying when she heard faint words over the white noise of rain, "Granger? What are you doing down there?"

She turned and looked up at Draco. He had his bag strapped over his chest and had charmed his wand to act as an umbrella, though it looked as if it had got caught by the wind anyway.

She stood slowly, swallowing heavily. "I really don't want to tell you..."

The cast of his gray eyes could have got lost among the rainclouds if they had not been so perfectly set on his face; Hermione noticed his hair looked darker when wet.

"Did youget my message?"

She looked at him, wondering how she was going to be able to tell him, and shook her head.

Looked down to his chest, he speculated, "Hmm, maybe it's a piece of junk. I was just over that hill, and-"

"No," she stammered, "I lost mine..."

"Oh."

"I'm so sorry, Draco! I searched everywhere for the bloody thing, but how do you find something that's invisible?"

He looked disappointed, "Let's get out of this rain and I'll help you look... well, it won't reveal to  _me,_ but you know what I mean."

Hermione nodded. She admired how Draco had developed some maturity over the years, but she assumed he was currently stifling his anger. It reminded her of the intimidating, but calm nature of Viktor Krum. Though, she never seemed to know what he was thinking, but when she came to find out, it was dull and disappointing. How was it, that she had suddenly come to miss the old Draco? 


	14. Surrender

Hermione sulked back inside the tent. Instead of immediately helping her to search however, Draco stopped near the wood-burning stove and used his wand to summon some logs he had stored in his bag. As he placed them in the stove, Hermione slowly paced over in astonishment.

"You were out to get those?"

Glancing back at her, he queried, "You wanted a fire, didn't you?"

Already in an emotional state, his kind gesture only made her feel more guilty. He casually ignited the logs with a spell, acting oddly indifferent about her losing the medallion. "Draco... you have to stop doing  _nice_  things for me."

"What do you mean?" Finishing with the fire, he turned to her and sassily continued, "Isn't that what  _friends_  do?"

She stared at him for a moment, breathing deeply, while a few cool droplets of water dripped off the end of her nose. She could tell from his expression that he was wondering what he could possibly have done wrong to offend her this time.

Heart racing, she closed her eyes for a moment.  _I can't continue like this, it's torture._ She tried to focus on the sound of the rain and the crackling of the fire as she attempted to figure out how to tell him how she felt.  _I just need to do it._

Stepping closer to him, she swallowed hard. Before she knew it, her eyes opened and the words simply fell out, "I don't think I can be your  _friend_."

Taken aback at first, Draco quickly attempted to translate her meaning, but found himself fixated by the vivid reflection of the fire in her eyes dancing from under her rain-soaked eyelashes. She was standing intimately close and the grim set of her mouth made it seem as if she were delivering a serious message. When it finally hit him, his heart began to race and he realized that she was standing there waiting on his response, despite not actually having asked him anything.

Trying to read his eyes, Hermione began to wonder if her statement had been clear. He gave himself away when he glanced down at her lips, and removed all shadow of doubt. But did he feel the same?  _Is he going to reject me?_  She was not sure her pride could handle it if he did.  _Do something!_

She inhaled sharply when he slowly reached out to brush some wet strands of hair from her cheek. Feeling that if she had made it this far without his laughing at her or rebuking her, she might as well fully confess her affections. After all, there was something she had wanted to do for a long time. Despite her resolve, she was hesitant as she stepped closer and swept her fingers through his hair. She hoped he would not object, as she was convinced that if he allowed her to do this, it was as good as a confession that he felt the same.

The trace of her fingers running across his scalp sent goosebumps down Draco's arms, and he exhaled deeply with the faintest whisper of, "Hermione..."

It was impossible for him to deny the magnetic pull he felt toward her. Though she appeared shocked, he swiftly leaned down, stopping just shy of making contact and appearing to tease her, though really he was taking the time to savor how it felt to be this near to her. He could feel the heat of her breath on his own lips, while he studied her closely, trying to determine if this was what she truly wanted.

Lifting his arm to reach for her waist, she inched forward still closer and pressed her lips to his. He instantly pulled her in and firmly reciprocated.

For him, it was a relief, to finally be doing what he had always wanted... though he could not believe  _she_  had been the one to initiate it. He had wished to kiss her for so long but had never believed Hermione Granger would be the one to make the first move. His body against hers felt so right, like a place made just for  _him_ , and he was assaulted with a mix of emotion: a sense of surrender, but also a fervor of lust.

Hermione clung to the back of his neck to pull herself closer; his grip on her waist tugged her closer still. There was a tangible battle of power in that kiss, a struggle over who wanted it more. There was a sense of aggression about Draco, which he had been cautiously and consciously hiding since their arrival, but which Hermione finally recognized in him. She never thought she would be so happy to feel the force of his body against hers, asserting his claim on her.

Despite her sense of joy and relief at finally relinquishing her secret, she did not want him to imagine that this had just been some sort of whim on her part. Breaking their kiss, she swore she heard his faint groan of disappointment. Breathing hard and leaning into his chest in reassurance, she explained in a whisper, "Your journal."

Smirking, he rested his forehead against hers, "I figured."

He looked up at her, eyes flickering to study her mouth. Draco wished he could tell her how much he had always wanted to be with her, but his rational self stopped him.  _Too soon, not yet._

"Draco... my Amortentia scent... it's of you, too." At his stunned expression, she explained, "Jasmine, spearmint, apples."

He tried to remember back, to recall if Hermione had ever done anything to imply that she had ever fancied him, but came up empty-handed. It was difficult to believe that Hermione had ever wanted him in  _any_  type of way. "Really?...How long?"

She looked at him sheepishly, "Well, I did have a small crush on you in our first year... but for certain, since sixth year..."

Still astonished, he gave her a long look then pulled her close again to deviously brush his lips against the shell of her ear, "So, apparently you  _can_  keep secrets..."

Heart racing, she inhaled his familiar scent.  _How can he be so sensual and yet so devious at the same time? And why do I like it?_

Both of his hands gripped her waist and she hardly noticed how natural her hands felt wrapped around his neck. For several moments, they both stood there with their foreheads pressed together. He murmured, "So, we aren't  _friends_  anymore, huh? Can't say I didn't try..."

"Draco..."

She heard him exhale quickly, and worried that something was wrong. Was he now going to say something, like how he could not do this,  _with her?_ "What...?"

"When you say my name it-... it makes my heart race. Every. Time."

Taking her hand, he placed it over his chest. She could feel the intense cadence of his heartbeat, while her eyes were glued to the place where both of their hands lay over his heart. Through the sound of rain and the crackling of fire, for a fraction of time there was only the flux of their hands rising and falling on his chest as she breathed in every bit of the moment between them.

Hermione wondered if he realized how romantic this was. It was more than she had expected of him, or of anyone. "Do you mean, even days ago when I started?"

He nodded, "You're a powerful witch, Hermione, I bet you make a lot of blokes feel that way."

Scrunching her nose, she heard his compliment but did not truly believe him. With a sense of ironic humor, she answered, "If that were true I would probably have a boyfriend by now."

"Lucky for me you scare them off," he grinned. When she opened her mouth to retaliate, he quickly added, "They would have to work harder to live up to your standards, Granger, and no doubt they'd fail..."

She had never viewed herself that way before, and no one had ever told her, not directly at least. Only someone as bold as Draco Malfoy would dare to tell her that, and she could not at first decide whether it was meant as a compliment or not. Eyeing him suspiciously, she pressed, "So, I don't intimidate Draco Malfoy, huh?"

He leaned in closely so their noses met and their lips nearly touched, "I think I'm up for the challenge..."

She took a deep breath, aching to kiss him again. But they both stood their ground, waiting to see which would be the first to give in to the inevitable this time.

To Draco's surprise, it was Hermione again, though he met her eagerly, relieved she had put him out of his misery. A second longer and he would have done it anyway, but his tenuous restraint had become his assurance that she wanted him just as much, to confirm the unbelievable... and even though he could feel the power struggle between them, her forward dominance of the situation at least put his doubts to rest. It was a relief to allow himself the liberty of finally yielding to the flutter of emotions that had simmered just below the surface for so long.

Hermione's tongue boldly caressed against his lips, causing Draco to release a low groan, which swiftly unraveled her nerves. He responded with the gentle touch of his own tongue, just a tease, but enough to cause her to release a small, feminine sigh. Having been so focused on what it would be like to kiss his lips, she was completely staggered by the tantalizing taste of his tongue.

The moment was shattered when she felt that bothersome tingle in her legs again, signaling their imminent collapse. She desperately wanted to ignore them, wishing she could will her ailments away. Reluctantly, Hermione began to pull away again but he greedily reached for one more peck on her lips.

"Draco... I'm sorry, but my legs, they're..."

He nodded in understanding, but then smoothly swept his hands down to the backs of her thighs and lifted her up against him. Gasping at the suddenness, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck to catch her balance, while her legs naturally found their way around his waist. When he had carried her before, she had been so concerned with attempting not to be so intimately close... now she wished she could steal back those moments and pounce him instead.

As he guided them toward her bed, she leaned to kiss him, causing him to stumble backward into a tent pole. After some careful navigation, they finally made it to her bed, where he lowered her down softly. Not wanting to break the moment, she  _accio_ 'ed for her purse so she could take a potion.

Grasping her purse, she weighed her options: if she took the blue potion she would become sleepy, on the other hand, she did not know how far they were going to take this. She had never done much beyond necking with Viktor a few times, but she had known him for awhile by then. Comparatively, this felt quick, but also right. Did he have more expectations than her?

"Draco, I... don't want to be sleepy... but I want to..." She looked down at her purse, then back to him, suddenly unsure how to communicate what she needed.

"You're still not well," he reminded her conscionably, "maybe we can just lay here for awhile and talk?"  
  


She studied him to see if he was disappointed, "Okay."

They were both still in their rain-soaked clothes and leaving wet patches on her sheets. Expecting her next request, Draco cast a drying charm on her, then on himself, and finally on her sodden sheets. Having spent most of her life being the responsible one, she was pleased that he generally seemed able to anticipate whatever she was likely to do next.

Once they had settled in beside one another, laying on their sides and facing each other, Draco reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. Running his thumb across her lips, he admitted, "You're a brilliant kisser. I always thought you might be."

"Had thoughts about that did you?" she teased.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Among others..."

Streaming her fingers through his hair again, she confessed, "I have always wanted to touch your hair."

Draco leaned his head into her hand and faintly smiled back with intrigue. "Oh? What else?"

Thinking for a second, she scanned his body before finding his hand and weaving her fingers between his. "And... to hold your hand..."

He gave it a small squeeze, which made her heart leap, before he pulled their intertwined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of hers.

 _Again, romantic, should I tell him? No don't ruin it... was he like this with someone else before?_ She watched him closely, nearly not believing this was the person who had shot insults at her and dismissed her as unequal in their youth, "Your turn."

He grinned, enjoying their little game. He had wanted so much from her, for so many years, it was difficult to filter through his thoughts and keep the conversation polite. As he allowed more emotion to surface, he found that what he really wanted, was to say,  _I have been waiting a long time to tell you... that I'm desperate for you and always have been, and this, right here, is more than I could ever expect... or deserve._

Recognizing that it was too intense for how new everything between them was, he instead opted for something less passionate. Though she might be more accustomed to baring her emotions, the concept was still foreign to him and made him nervous. He settled on, "I have genuinely always wanted to be closer to you, as a friend, as an acquaintance, and sadly, as a nemesis."

Blushing a bright red, she found herself transfixed by him, unable to say a word.

Softly, he continued, "I heard  _our_  song..."

Hermione inhaled sharply; she knew the one he meant, and he had clearly understood from the lyrics that it was about him, or them. She had kept that song private for so long, she had given up all expectations that he would ever know. She kept the thought of it deep down, teaching herself to ignore the idea behind it by having convinced herself it was a silly and lonely fantasy.

He watched her, not appearing to tease her or imply that the song was sappy, and she thought that the fact that  _he_  brought it up meant that he was more sentimental than he ever let on. Like the snap of her fingers, it came to her, " _That_ was what you were listening to earlier when you were staring at me?" He nodded, and she smiled to confirm, "It  _is_ our song, isn't it?"

Pulling her hand to his lips again, almost as if he was hiding this time when he nodded in agreement once more. Hermione sighed, feeling she needed to open the pandora's box that was Draco Malfoy. She began, "Draco, I want to know everything. Your thoughts, your feelings... if this is truly  _you_ , right here... then no more hiding."

He knew she was referring to his character, holding back and making a smart remark in its place.

"I want to... I just-with our history, which is  _my_  fault.. _."_ He paused,  _Just tell her. She wants to hear it, right?_

She struggled somewhat to push herself back into a seated position, noticing her legs were now completely immobilized. But she was focused on him, eager to hear what was on his mind. _Maybe he hasn't actually been this way with anyone else before._

He exhaled and murmured under his breath, "Do you forgive me, Granger?"

Hermione froze, continuing to stare back at him. He seemed unsure of himself and loosened his hold on her hand. Memories of them in their youth flooded her mind. She could sense that this was difficult for him, though she also recognized that he must have changed a lot to even ask.

Tears began to cloud her eyes, and she stared at their hands, "Only if you forgive me..."

Draco sat up, "What? What could you have possibly done to need  _my_  forgiveness?"

His head was tilted in curiosity as he wiped a tear from her cheek before kissing the very spot. She looked up into his eyes, "I know we were nasty to each other but, well, now that you're aware that I was..." she paused, trying to think of the right word, "... _taken_  by you... how could I not have noticed you were suffering?"

"Hermione..."

"No, I ignored it, and probably because of my pride, not wanting to be pushed away or rejected..." She reflected on how Ron had used to make her feel; it had shaken her confidence and kept her from even coming close to approaching Draco.

Draco sighed, now feeling absolutely gutted that he had made her feel that way. He already felt guilt over calling her  _Mudblood_. Softening his voice, he pulled her closer, "Please, don't- you did  _nothing_  wrong. Look, I know I come off as..."

He stalled, trying to judge what people actually did think of him, but she easily filled in the blank for him, prompting, "A pompous, arrogant bully?"

Wrinkling his nose, he accepted, "Alright, Granger... I know. I'm working on it. From now on, if you ask me, I'll tell you, okay?...and... I am sorry. Sorry it took me this long."

Hermione knew that was probably difficult for him to say, so it meant a lot to her. She was relieved that he acknowledged it out loud, knowing they could build something here, that she was still unsure of.

He leaned in to kiss her lips and she gladly kissed him back as he shifted his body closer to hers. She stopped, glancing down at her useless legs. Following her gaze, Draco explained, "That curse isfeedingoff of your emotions. Unfortunately, I don't have an ingredient to fix that."

"At least I'm lucky enough that you happen to have a passion for potions."

"I think you're getting  _passion_ and  _interest_  mixed up."

"Am I?"

"My interest is out there with my potions," he explained. "My passion, on the other hand, is right here."

He leaned to kiss her cheek before moving down to her neck. Quivering, Hermione whispered into his ear, "If you're going to say things like  _that,_  my legs will never get better."

He grazed her neck with feather-light kisses, causing her pulse to thrum excitedly in her veins. Reluctantly, she had to stop him.

"Wait," she requested. Draco paused, looking up to see what was wrong. "Will you pass me my purse, please?"

He handed it over to her and she took out a blue potion, drinking it down. Replacing the empty vial back into her bag, she placed it on the other side of her.

"Give me three minutes."

His eyes widened and it took a moment for Hermione to realize how that must have sounded to him. Considering she had passed out shortly after consuming the potion earlier that day, Draco must have known they would only have a short while to do anything. Hermione just wanted more time.

She traced her hands around the edge of his hairline, then along his ears, before caressing the back of his neck. His eyes closed in pleasure, and she found herself amazed at how thoroughly he enjoyed her touch. The tips of his fingers grazed her hips until he tugged at her jeans to pull her against him.

Gradually, Hermione began to feel her legs again and started attempting to shift them toward him. She paused when suddenly, it felt as if something had tangled around her toes. Stopping, she peered down and moved her foot again. It felt like a cold string around her toes.

She glanced up at Draco, who merely shot her a questioning look. Leaning down to see what it could be, she could not see a thing. Reaching down, she used her hands to feel around before recognizing the mystery object.

"It's the medallion!"

She carefully placed it around her neck, which was tricky as neither of them could physically see it, and it finally revealed itself to her. She was elated. After feeling terrible for losing it, now the special device that connected the two of them was back.

Draco smirked, watching her place it over her head, but only noticing that her hair was being tugged by something. "And to think, if you didn't take that vial,  _because you had the idea to pounce me_ , you wouldn't have found it just now."

She glared at him and shook her head, feeding off his sass, "You have no  _idea_ what I want to do to  _you._ "

At his shocked expression, she bit her lip, half grinning and feeling a mixture of shyness and pride that had she stated such a claim. After a glance at Draco's awe-struck face, she looked back at the medallion.

Draco liked this side of Hermione. He wondered if perhaps he was rubbing off on her. He wanted to kiss her again but paused when he saw how finding the medallion made her feel. "You know, I always wanted you to have that. Even when we weren't friends. You were always the person I had in mind to share it with."

Looking up abruptly at his confession, Hermione knew she was beginning to appreciate this side of Draco. She indulged herself with the thought,  _Maybe I'm rubbing off on him_.

"I wish you had. Maybe we could have kept ourselves a secret, kept ourselves safe from everything."

Draco looked down shyly, while taking her hand and sizing it up to his, "Would you have done that for  _me_?"

Hermione moved back toward him, grazing the stubble across his jawline and toward the pink of his lips, "I would have done that for  _us_."

Not having expected an affirmative reply, Draco looked up quickly. It hit him then, that she unknowingly controlled the motives of his heart. In everything that had happened in his past, he never imagined such a feeling between himself and another person.

Throwing her onto her back, he swiftly leaned in to kiss her with more passion than he thought he ever possessed. Their bodies snug against one another, he felt rather than heard her faint hum of approval. She wrapped one leg around his waist and he eagerly responded by grasping it tight.

Her hips pressed against his, she became flustered when she felt proof of his arousal hard against her _._ Adjusting herself to accommodate him, he let out a soft moan and Hermione felt a tremor of stimulation. She had never anticipated that his sounds of pleasure could be so titillating, and soon found herself whimpering in response.

Encouraged by her small mewls of pleasure, his kisses on her neck grew more aggressive. He helped himself to a firm bite of her velvety skin, and when she elicited a faint yelp in response, his tongue followed in apology.

Her hand gripping his shoulder, she had never enjoyed the interchange of pleasure and pain like this before. The anticipation of his teeth across her skin and the softness of his tongue was exhilarating. She found herself wanting to be bitten, just to give his tongue a purpose again.

Hermione slid her hand down his back, finding the edge of his shirt and beginning to tug at it. She remembered his shirtless body from the night before and wanted to see it again. As she made another attempt to pull it up higher, he shifted to allow her to take it off and went back to kissing her neck.

Her fingers glided across his silky skin and she felt his goosebumps rising along his flesh as a result of her touch. Meanwhile, Draco had migrated lower to her collarbone and pulled at the neck of her shirt to kiss her shoulder.

Hermione liked this too much and she wanted more, but hoped he did not think she was simply easy with anyone. Ultimately, she still worried that this was all going too fast, but while she was under his body, being peppered with his intoxicating kisses, the thought was forced away. She moved and began to lift her own shirt before tugging it higher, then over her head, past her wavy brown locks of hair as they softly caressed her bare shoulders.

Draco paused, completely taken aback by her ambition to remove both of their shirts. He studied her body, attempting not to stare at her chest where her breasts overflowed ever-so-slightly out of her bra-line anytime she took a breath.

He leaned down and returned to her shoulder, where he continued his onslaught, slowly moving lower. His lips ghosting against her clavicle, he mumbled, "Hermione... you're so beautiful..."

Digging her fingers into his hair, Hermione relished hearing him say her name, shivering deliciously as he trailed kisses lower. When he arrived at her breasts, he kissed them each lightly and continued on down to her navel.

Just then, she could feel the effects of the potion she had taken, heralded by a wave of drowsiness.  _No, no, why now?_

She flopped her head back, frustrated, "Draco..."

He paused, looking back up at her, "The potion?"

She nodded painfully and he came back up to kiss her lips, "Can I stay with you?"

Her eyes became heavy and she gave him a peck on the lips, laying her head down and watching him as he did the same on the pillow next to her.

Though it was early evening, Draco had only just noticed that they had not eaten anything yet, but his heart was hungrier than his stomach. He lay next to her as she sleepily turned away from him, and for a second he felt as if something had been left out... like the abruptness of the potion had left him alone to his thoughts while she fell swiftly into a deep sleep. Just then, she tugged at his arm, wrapping it around her waist. Smiling to himself, he shifted closer to her and kissed the back of her shoulder, pleased when she quietly hummed, "I don't  _want_ to sleep..."

"I'll adjust the potion," he promised, "sleep, Hermione, I'll be here."

She gripped his arm tighter and he sighed. So much had happened that night, it was going to take him awhile to collect everything in his mind before it dissipated. Perhaps this whole day had been a dream. How could it be real?

As Hermione quietly drifted off to sleep, Draco thought back to the day he had saved her from the manor. Though there were not many proud days in his life, he was certain he could chalk that day up to being one of them. All the same, he was not entirely sure that it had not been  _her_  that had actually saved  _him_...

It was quiet and peaceful in the tent now, except for Hermione's steady breathing, along with the slowing droplets of rain on the canvas and the crackling and popping of the fire. Feeling the warmth of her body against his, flesh to flesh, Draco recognized that he had never held anyone quite like this before, and even though they both had been eager to do more, this was just as rewarding.

Some of her curls tickled his nose when she shifted slightly in slumber and he inhaled her cherry-vanilla scent. Burrowing further into her hair, he murmured, "I've always wanted to do that..."


	15. Confessions

Hermione woke to find Draco still in bed with her, but wearing a different set of clothes. Deciding he must have got up already, she turned toward him to determine if he was up. Though his eyes were closed, they opened when he sensed her movement.

"Morning, Granger, how you feeling?"

Realizing she still was not wearing a top, she pulled up on the blanket to cover herself.

"Oh, now you're shy? I'll have you remember,  _you_  took my shirt off last night _and_  your own."

Blushing, she merely shrugged. Something about a good night's sleep now had her wondering if yesterday had actually been real. "You had it coming, Malfoy."

Wrinkling his nose, he crawled over her body and placed his hands on each of her wrists, dragging them above her head to playfully pin her down.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll decide to hold out on you next time, Granger. I mean, if you're going to get this excited by my presence... it really can't be good for your condition."

He leaned in to kiss her lips, but purposely shifted when he saw her reaching up to receive it. Instead, he dipped down to kiss her neck.

While Hermione was no expert in foreplay, she decided this was a great start. Testing out her legs to determine if they were working, she found that they were and wrapped them around his waist, pressing her hips up into his. With a smirk, she teased, "Dear sir, I do believe it is  _your_  condition that becomes altered due to  _my_  presence."

As a result of her body pressing against his, Draco moaned into her ear before whispering, "Can you feel my  _condition_  now?"

Hermione answered, more or less, with her heightened breathing. There was no way she could miss the feeling of Draco's arousal against her leg. Slowly slipping one of his hands down her arm, Draco ran it down her exposed side and under her bum to pull her closer to him.

With a sudden clarity, he sensed Hermione's nervousness and recognized that they probably should take things a bit slower. "One day, Granger, you can have  _this_... but it will not be  _this_ day."

With that, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, climbed off of her, and exited her bed area. Hermione was left stunned.  _Did he just tease me and then leave?_

From somewhere in the tent, he shouted, "Get up, Granger! I know your legs are working. You can count this as day one... unless all this excitement has altered  _your_  condition!"

Recognizing he had won that war, she quickly attempted to win the battle, "In more ways than one, Malfoy, but I guess you'll  _never_  find out!"

Pleased with her comeback, she grabbed her purse so she could get dressed.

Draco smiled to himself, pretending her feisty banter did not turn him on more than he already was. He really had not wanted to leave her in the first place, but was curious how experienced she was in such matters while also accepting that she needed to get better. In an attempt to settle himself, he chose to start making breakfast.

After a brief shower, Hermione stepped back to see Draco setting the table with plates of eggs and sausage, plus tea for her and coffee for him.

Astonished, she queried, "You  _made_  breakfast?"

Knowing she meant without magic, he grinned sheepishly, "Look, I don't know how to do this without my wand-"

She snapped back, " _You_  said to avoid using magic! I made dinner without it!"

He retorted, "I thought it  _very_  important that you get fed. Besides, you're a master chef and I'm useless without my wand..."

Grinning, Hermione began to suspect Draco's character was rubbing off on her. "I wouldn't say you're  _completely_  useless. You seem to be able to conjure up magic frequently enough in my bed..."

Draco's eyes went wide for a moment before he grinned, "Granger... I've begun to think you were placed in the wrong house."

She laughed loudly before pretending to put on airs, "Please, I could have been placed in  _all_  of  _those_  houses..."

Shaking his head, he gazed at her admiringly, "I don't think there's a house that could  _contain_ you."

Compliment or not, it made her smile. They sat down to eat, grinning at once another between bites. Draco finally broke the silence with a suggestion, "So if your legs are up for it, would you like to take a walk to that lake we didn't reach the other day?"

"I'd like that."

"Alright, it's a date."

Hermione lowered her fork, reflecting on a similar conversation from the other day, only this time, she did not experience panic over his meaning. "I see what you did there, Draco, and I  _will_  count this as our first date."

He chuckled, "I figured I would just say that phrase until you caved."

Shaking her head, she smiled.  _So he did actually mean it the other day!_

Once they had finished with breakfast, they packed a bag with a light lunch, making sure to bring a few vials for Hermione's legs, just in case. Outside was a clear blue sky, while a breeze that carried the scent of the ocean gently tousled their hair. After casting  _Protego Totalum_  charms on themselves, they strolled side-by-side at a leisurely pace. They swapped stories about their experiences with New Zealand and why they had both separately decided on it.

As they approached the lake, they had to descend a slight downward slope. Steeper hills edged most of the lake's perimeter, giving it the feel of a large swimming hole. There was a small rim of sand by the water's edge that, in the distance, met large slabs of rock.

Hermione paused when her shoes met the sand, "This is lovely."

Draco nodded, cautiously placing some stronger protective enchantments around the area now that they had arrived, "We should go for a swim."

"I guess, if you think it's safe..." she answered hesitantly, inspecting the water.

Draco strolled up beside her, giving her a sideways glance, as he japed, "Is the mighty Hermione Granger scared of a swim?" He nudged her to snap her out of her intensity. "This isn't exactly the Black Lake. Now  _that_  I would avoid."

She glanced at him then back to the lake, "I've actually been in  _that_  lake, though not by choice."

"I remember that. Luckily, Krum had the talent to save you..." Crossing his arms, he shifted his weight and watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. She only nodded absently, still staring into the water.

Draco speculated on if they were in love, or even still together. He had even secretly attempted to channel the calm maturity of Viktor Krum when he first brought Hermione to this place, hating to admit that it had probably helped. His heart raced, not completely sure he wanted to know everything his mind was begging to ask. Krum was strong, foreign, and a professional Quidditch player. How could he even compete with that? Then he suddenly blurted, "And then you dated him, right?"

She glanced back at him quickly, presuming his sarcasm, "Yes, Draco, someone did actually want to date me believe it or not. It was... a brief relationship."

He puffed back, "Well, I guess that's how men prove themselves worthy: save you from danger,  _then_  get a date..."

Thinking on that for a moment, she realized he was right. "I never thought of it that way, but yes, I suppose so...  _you_  seem to be on the right track, then."

Draco replied, "Well, you didn't seem to keep that relationship so..."

She laughed, " _Well,_ Viktor was nice, but... simple."

"He was an international Quidditch player, Hermione!" he exclaimed in awe. Musing for a moment, he added, "I suppose Weasley must have saved your life, as well..."

She looked at him quickly, as Ron was a sensitive subject. Though she did not particularly want to get into details, Draco had now brought him up twice, so she recognised the need to clarify, "Ron and I never  _officially_  dated."

Sensing that her mood had changed, he attempted to lighten it again, "Well, Granger, I have always known gingers to be more high-maintenance than blonds... so you're on the right track."

Flashing her a wink, he led her down to a better spot to sit on the edge of the lake.

Smiling again, it occurred to her that this was the perfect opportunity to ask about Draco's dating history, "You revealed that you never had a serious relationship with anyone, either. Dare I ask what experience you  _do_  have?"

Draco settled down next to her, not really wanting to discuss it. He looked away for a moment, as if he could find a distraction to spare him from a confession. He assumed it would alter how she felt about him, but on the other hand, he had made a promise to tell her anything when asked. He cleared his throat and turned back to her.

"I had relations, just not relation _ships_ ," he clarified, squinting at her and wrinkling his nose to suggest he might be ashamed.

Pursing her lips, Hermione was not initially sure if she wanted to know or not. She soon decided that her curiosity was too great. "If you don't want to tell me... I mean, I won't judge you, or... at least I'll  _try_  not to."

To indicate she was being sincere, she shot him a grin and waited for his response. He hesitated.

"Alright, Granger, since you asked..." Taking a deep breath, "I hooked up with Pansy Parkinson. It was one time."

Hermione stared at the surface of the lake. "Define, 'hook up'."

Draco exhaled looking down into the water, "It was a few summers ago. She and I found some Beetle Berry Whiskey and decided to down the whole bottle. Eventually, we started snogging... one thing led to another... and we ended up shagging at her place. I never really fancied her, it was just- a  _one time thing_."

Hermione made a brave attempt to look him in the eye while he spoke, but quickly went back to staring at the water. "Is... that it?"

Draco reclined backward on the palms of his hands and reassured her, "That's it."

She looked sideways at him in disbelief, wishing she had asked when he had taken the veritaserum the other day.

"You don't believe me?" he sensed. "I wouldn't lie about that."

But Hermione remembered the rumors that had flown around Hogwarts about Draco's... conquests. "So the rumors aren't true? About... you know, you with  _loads of girls_?"

Draco's head fell back and he ginned, recalling the rumors, though he had never really known who actually heard them. He sat back up, "No, that was Blaise. I'm pretty sure he wanted people to think we were masters of sex. He's actually with Pansy now, last I checked." He paused to think and continued, "when the rumors first got back to me, it had already gone too far, and what was I to do? Stand up and yell ' _I'm not that experienced!_ ' to all of Hogwarts?"

Hermione burst into laughter, partly from relief that Draco had not actually shagged most of the female population of Hogwarts, and partly because he had shouted that last part loud enough to echo around the lake.

He laughed along with her before calming down enough to ask, "And you, Miss Granger?" He cleared his throat again, this time for effect. "Are you  _that..._   _experienced_?"

Hermione was surprised he had to even ask, as she thought it all-too-obvious that she wasn't. Blushing and wishing to avoid answering, she teased, "Mr. Malfoy, a lady never tells..."

Having half-expected that answer, he swiftly argued, "Bollocks, Granger! I just told  _you_. Now it's  _your_ turn! Although... I may regret asking if Weasley is involved."

He studied her face as he waited for her answer. She clearly had reservations, but he was determined to find out. So, to egg her on, his eyes widened dramatically and he gasped obnoxiously, as if she  _had_  answered already. "...POTTER? I always wondered why he was called the  _Boy Who Lived_! This explains it! I mean, after being with  _you_ , that  _would_  be an accomplishment!"

Even before the end of his teasing accusation, he was heartily laughing. Hermione shoved his arm, nearly pushing him into the water. She responded to his teasing with pretended airs again, mostly to cover the real truth, "Oh, be quiet, you! Anyone would be _lucky enough_ to be with me! After all,  _I am_  the brightest witch of our age, just imagine my talents!"

Still laughing, he retorted, "Oh, I  _have_  imagined... but  _brightest_ isn't the word  _I'd_  choose..."

At this, she gave him an even harder shove, which sent him straight into the lake. The water splashed her and she gasped. She was shocked herself that she had just done that.

The water was shockingly cold but luckily only ankle deep. He sat up quickly and looked toward her with wild eyes.  _I can't believe she just did that!_

After her slight shock wore off, she could not help but grin. Then she realized, by the look on Draco's face, that he was clearly about to retaliate. She scrambled to stand up, intending to run, but before she got anywhere she felt him grab one ankle, then the other, and began to drag her into the cool water. Screaming, she splashed at him, for all the good it did. Realizing that they should not be causing so much noise she paused and so did she. They both looked around, then back at each other and smiled.

Soaked through, they both surrendered, having resigned themselves to sitting beside one another.

Catching his breath, Draco looked up at her, "You'd rather push me in a lake then answer  _that q_ uestion, huh?"

Hermione threw her head back to face the sky, her hair dripping behind her, before blurting out, "I'm a virgin, okay?"

She dared to look at him, only to find a faint smile. She was prepared for him to tease her, but to her surprise, he said nothing.

"Say something!"

His pinched his lips holding back a larger smile and shook his head as he gazed far into the lake.

"Okay, why wouldn't  _you_  have  _something_  to say to that? Quit smiling and  _talk_!"

They were both silent, the only sound was of the water lapping up against them.

Unnerved by his silence, Hermione pressed, "Is it because you already  _knew_  and I'm an idiot for attempting to hide it? Or are you... I really don't know! Please, speak!"

With a sigh, Draco cast her a look. "It did surprise me a little. I mean, you were with Potter and Weasley so much... I can safely say that I am the jealous type. So really, I'm actually relieved."

She had not been expecting that answer.

"Oh..."

"You  _are_ my first..." he paused, not wanting to push for too much. After all, it was only their first date. He settled on, "...relationship."

Hermione felt him playfully tug at her wet hair. She watched as his lips grew closer, anticipating the feel of them meeting hers. For just that moment, she could pretend they were the only people in the world.

Her eyes closed at his gentle kisses and leaned toward him to continue, only to find that he was not there any longer. She opened her eyes to find that he had paused. When he was not forthcoming, she began to feel stupid while simultaneously wondering why he had stopped.

He grinned at her, "I think this is going well. I mean, I already got a kiss. Moving a bit fast for a first date, aren't we, Granger?"

Unable to believe he possessed more restraint than her, Hermione splashed him again, pretending it did not bother her in the slightest. Smiling, she queried, "What's a date without a meal? Let's eat."

Draco stood, then reached down, grasping her hand to help her up. Pulling her up to standing, he leaned over to kiss the back of her hand.

Because he had imagined she would like the gesture, he was surprised when she unexpectedly appeared appalled by his action. Pulling her hand away, she shoved him back into the water. Standing over him with her hand on her hip, she quipped, "First date, right? Don't get fresh with  _me,_  Malfoy."

He looked up at her, soaked again, and shook his head, "Seriously, the sorting hat got you all wrong..."

Making her way toward their bags to retrieve their wands, she conceded, "Hmm, well I  _guess_  I can see a  _bit_ of Slytherin in me..."

Getting up from where he still sat in the lake, Draco smirked as he walked out of the water as he dared to retort, "Granger, don't rush me!"

Realizing she had fallen right into that one, she rolled her eyes. After using her wand to dry herself, she pointed it at Draco.

"Okay, okay!" he protested, holding up his hands in surrender, "please don't hex me!"

Utilizing drying charms for their clothes, they settled down to eat their lunch. Sitting down next to each other facing the lake, Draco curiously opened a bag of crisps he had bought from the Muggle store days before. Hermione noticed the bag had a strange name and contained a small red flame near the logo. Before she could say something, he had already taken a bite out of the crisp. Immediately he twisted his face and his cheeks flushed red. Hermione nearly choked from laughter. She peeled open one of the sandwiches and handed him a piece of cheese since they lacked something better. He looked at it and gave her a painfully strange look.

"It's for the burning."

He glanced at her, then quickly grabbed it and took a bite. Hermione grabbed the bag of crisps from him and tapped the image of the flame so he could see. "That means  _spicy_. I thought maybe you knew."

"Oh. I thought it meant it would be served warm."

This logic caused Hermione to chuckle again and she watched him wrinkle his nose and mumble, "Shut up, Granger."

She shoved him lightly as he took another bite of cheese and they finished the rest of their meal quietly, allowing Draco's pride to heal.

As they began the trek back to the tent, Draco reached down to intertwine his hand with hers.

 _He's sweet no matter what facade he puts on_ , she decided. The medical tape wrapped on around her forearm brushed against his own as they walked, but despite the reminder, she did not want to let go.

Looking her way, he asked, "Is  _this_  alright?"

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, she replied, "It's a bit forward, but I'll let it pass."

Hermione felt like she was floating and she dared to imagine where this relationship was going. Then, while having a hopeful vision of the future, the bubble popped as she envisioned it from Harry and Ron's perspective, even if they weren't alive.


	16. Amends

As they continued to walk back to the tent, Hermione's thoughts linered on Harry and Ron. She still did not know if they were alive, captured, being tortured, or all of it. For all she knew, the war could be over. A small, pessimistic voice dissented,  _Doubtful._

A deep guilt had built up in her chest by the time they entered the tent.

Seeing that her mind was elsewhere, Draco tugged at her hand and inquired, "I can see you thinking, Granger. What is it?"

 _He never misses a beat,_ she thought. It was something she liked about Draco. Harry or Ron would likely have avoided asking what she was thinking. She imagined they would find her thoughts exhausting, as they often had.

Letting go of his hand, she made her way over to where she had left her parchment with the list of strategies, "I really feel like we should be going soon."

Draco's empty hand fell to his side, "First date was that bad, huh?"

Too focused to make any funny retort, she gave him a frank look and insisted, "It was the best date I've ever had, actually."

Draco smiled, but recognized that there was more on her mind, and waited for her to explain.

"I just think... I'm worried about Harry and Ron, and what else could be going on..."

"Granger, you need to get better. I mean, what good are you to them if you have a relapse and can't even walk?" Motioning to her legs, he added, "Look, you're doing great today..."

"I know, but I'll never forgive myself if while I'm enjoying this beautiful sanctuary with you," she paused, and looked down while playing with the parchment, "people are dying back home..."

Draco stepped toward her, "You can't fight in your condition. I can help you with that, and I'd be willing to bet Potter and Weasley would agree."

Nothing he could say could shake the feeling that she needed to be doing something more, and she was annoyed that he was probably right about her friends agreeing to her resting here, or mostly right. Quietly, she mumbled, "I doubt it..."

Draco took a half step back, "What is that supposed to mean, Granger? You  _doubt_ that they would want you to rest? Or you  _doubt_ they'd want  _me_  taking care of you?"

She knew he could already see the answer and sighed. "I doubt Harry and Ron will be pleased when they find out you took care of me...  _and,_  you know,  _this_ relationship..."

"You're worried they won't be  _pleased_? Because resting at the hands of  _me_ , will make them  _mad_  at you?" Draco was beside himself. He guessed what the others would think, but in the end, he was helping her.

Hermione looked away; it was true, but not entirely. "Draco, I don't want to argue with you. We just had a lovely time. I only want to do my part to end this war."

But Draco, whose thoughts had been harping on this particular thought for awhile, could not hold back any longer. He rubbed his knuckles and began to pace, "I bet you're worried about how Weasley will react, not Potter, Potter is truly your friend. Sure, he and I have- well, you know- but he has other shit to worrying about." He paused in front of her. "Weasley, on the other hand... well, he's probably in love with you, and the two of you have some unspoken history." He looked into her eyes to find some answer only to find her cheeks turn pink and her nose flaring. "Yup. If Weasley finds out any of this..." He waved his hands between them. "...about  _us_..." Then he turned and crossed his arms, "he'll be after me, make no mistake." Then he made flourishing hand movements and paced back toward her. "He'll even tell you I've put you under a spell... and  _you're_  worried about it, because your relationship with him is teetering on edge. Is any of this right? Am I close?" He ended up dangerously close to a fuming Hermione but he continued to peer at her.

Hermione boiled,  _How dare he assume he knows my relationship with my friends? And... how could he... guess all of that?_ She stepped further into him to challenge him and pointed her finger into his chest, "You don't know anything about me and Ron, Malfoy! Why are you trying to make it that I want to leave because of  _him_? I told you I want to fight this bloody war, and I feel like I'm-"

"What?" he sneered." _Wasting_ your time, with  _me_?"

She stared at him. It was not what she had been going to say, but it was grating on her nerves that he was coming to these conclusions.

"I never said that! I just really want to help-"

"Granger, if Harry- _fucking_ -Potter  _is_  the  _Chosen_  One, then just let him do his job! I really don't know how Weasley fits into all of this, he seems a useless git." He mirrored her pointing, tapping her shoulder on his last words, "I think you should rest, and we can leave when you. Are. Better!"

Just as he finished his sentence, Hermione felt him swiftly swipe her wand from her unexpecting hands. She guessed that it was his punishment for her pushing to leave so soon, but for Hermione it was far more. She fumed at his audacity to take a wand from a witch in such a way.

Watching him briskly walking away, she spouted after him, "Give me back my wand, Malfoy!"

Draco huffed in defiance, though with every step he took, a weight grew in his chest. He knew he should not have done that, but it was too late now, so he continued on to the other side of the tent. He only hoped she would not conjure some wandless magic that they would both regret.

"Draco!"

Furious that he would take her wand,  _again,_  rage replaced rationality. Looking around for something, her eyes stopped on an empty vial on the table nearby. She swiftly grasped it and heaved it at him. The vial soared in his direction, smashing against a tent post behind him, and shattering.

Draco glanced down to the floor covered in glistening shards, then up at Hermione, and raised his eyebrows in shock at her fury. Then, holding up her wand to show it to her, he used it to clean up her mess.

Hermione stood firm, nostrils flaring, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth,  _How dare he use my wand!_ She stood there trying to control herself and watched him calmly walk away and out of sight.

Deciding it was best not to say anything yet, Draco retreated to an unused bed to give them both a chance to cool off. He put his wand down and began studying hers, twirling it in his fingers as he began to analyze their relationship.

 _How long could we last if we constantly bicker like this? What if it's not enough to just be in love with someone? I doubt anyone she dated did this.They were probably sweet to her and respected her like a princess._ He huffed to himself, reflecting on her recent assault, "More like a warrior..."

Picking up his wand, he measured it next to hers, curious of what it was crafted with, and noting that hers was slightly longer.  _I don't want to become my parents. They never seemed to agree. Mother is always passive and HE always wins._ Draco placed his wand down, and gripped Hermione's wand to feel the weight.  _I wish mother would stand up for herself more, maybe we wouldn't be in this predicament if she had._ He knew it was wishful thinking.He turned slightly to catch the light and brought her wand closer see the details.  _Walnut? No..._ He sighed. _It's a relief that Hermione isn't passive. She makes you feel as if she genuinely wants to be there, with you._ Draco smiled to himself. He loved how gallant she was and concluded that he would rather spend all his days bickering with her than never being with her at all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the tent, Hermione was wallowing in deep regret for throwing the vial, but was simultaneously furious at him for flaunting the use of  _her_  wand to clean up the mess. She had never been this angry, or acted this immaturely around anyone else; what was it about him?

She knew he was right about her needing time to heal, but she was determined to find her friends, assuming they were still alive.  _He's getting the wrong idea_ , she seethed. The truth was, she felt selfish for this time, indulging in her new relationship with Draco.

After waiting a minute to see if he was going to come back, she instead decided she did not want to appear to be waiting on  _him_. She made herself comfortable on the couch, attempting to calm herself down. It would not do if her legs were to go out again. To occupy herself, she picked up the strategy parchment from the coffee table and stared at it, as if new information might come to her, but she could not think of anything useful.

She quickly became frustrated again at her inability to focus, the cause of which was clearly her guilt: guilt over being in this safe place while Harry and Ron were stuck somewhere, guilt that she was ill, guilt that Draco was not completely wrong about Ron...

She trailed her finger over Draco's handwriting on the parchment.  _What if mixing Draco with Ron and Harry doesn't work out?_ She silently fretted, _They might actually kill each other!_ It was a valid concern, that she might lose her friendship with Ron because of the one she was developing with Draco.  _He's right, they'll assume I've fallen for him because of a spell. It might make it easier for them to think that, rather than coming to terms with the fact that I have actually fallen in love with Draco Malfoy WITHOUT the use of spells._

She began to roll up the parchment, deciding that she was clearly not going to commit to it in the moment.

 _What if I have to choose between them? I can't lose my friends... I really don't want to lose Draco either. If he still likes me after what I just did._ She smacked the small tube of rolled up parchment on her knee.  _He didn't seem angry, maybe stunned. Maybe for him this is normal, always having someone angry at him. Why am I acting this way?_ Then she began to tap the parchment it in a drum-like rhythm. _It's infuriating when he's right! He's always a step ahead, how can he know me so well? It's like, I can show him my anger and he just handles it. I don't have to hide it from him. Maybe I should... just because he CAN handle it doesn't mean he deserves it..._ She tossed the parchment to the side, where it unraveled slightly.

Sick of her own thoughts and determined to focus on anything else, she reached for Dumbledore's copy of  _Beedle the Bard_ , but this only brought on a wave of anger toward the late headmaster. It quickly abated, leaving only the rueful wish that Dumbledore had left them more clues. Even so, she recognized that the Ministry of Magic would likely have kept them, and Voldemort would no doubt have obtained them shortly thereafter.

An hour or more passed, with both Draco and Hermione still on opposite sides of the tent. It began to grow dark outside.

Draco was still doing a lot of thinking about Hermione. He hated that he had rendered her powerless again, along with the resentment she was probably feeling. After awhile, he began to get hungry and wondered if perhaps Hermione was, too.

Rising, he decided to make some dinner for them, the Muggle way. Trying not to disturb her, he still glanced her way as he left the solitude of the spare bed area. She looked to him as if she had calmed down and was now focused on a book.

He knew it was pathetic that he only knew how to make a bloody sandwich, but set to work cobbling two of them together anyway. As he brewed some tea, he thought,  _I hope she doesn't get angry if I go over there. I should be quick about it in case she ends up throwing this plate at me...and just return her wand... if she wants to leave, she should be able to._

He made his way over to where she reclined on the couch, setting the food down on the coffee table and carefully laying her wand beside it before quietly walking away.

Hermione glanced up to see the plate on the table and sighed.  _He made me dinner. I just threw a vial at him, and he made me dinner._

She glanced up to look at him, but he had already retreated out of sight. _He must have gone back to that empty bed. Maybe he wants to stay there all night. After all, why would he want to lay near a maniac?_

With a sigh, she reached for the sandwich and took her first bite. Even though it was the only thing he had managed to make, it tasted good.

After a half-hour had gone by and he had not resurfaced, she decided to reach out to him. Looking down at her medallion, she began to over-analyze what she should send.

_I would love to just blurt out everything I feel, but that could take days! No one wants to hear all my thoughts, and this medallion doesn't contain enough space for the words. I'm not sure anything would..._

She resolved to send something simple: ' _thank-you.'_

Seeing her message made Draco smile, but he too had a hard time deciding on what to reply. He was afflicted with a deep, visceral sensation, a mix of emotion which felt slightly foreign to him; yearning and making amends. He grabbed the borrowed CD Player, studied it and then tampered with the sound somewhat. When he was satisfied, he got up from the bed, making his way over to the front of the tent. Placing the CD Player down, he pressed play on the device and confidently approached Hermione.

She looked up at him, wondering if he was there because of her message, but upon hearing the first notes of the music, she turned to find the source and shot him an inquisitive look.

Draco gave her an inquiring look and held out his hand to her. Hermione smiled shyly when she noticed that the song he was playing was  _theirs_. If this were anyone else, she would have cringed at the sappy gesture, but with Draco, it appeared special and genuine.

She stepped in close to him and he took her hand in his, placing his other on her lower back. Her other hand went naturally to his shoulder and he began to lead her into a sway.

She was still embarrassed by her previous actions, and so avoided his attempt at eye contact. Instead, she focused on the smooth swaying of his body with hers. It was a stark contrast to the awkwardness of the boys she had danced with at Hogwarts. She closed her eyes, inhaled his jasmine cologne, and she would have sworn that they were floating.

Hermione pulled back slightly, about to speak, but Draco was determined to avoid her possible apology so he jumped in first, "I told you I was the jealous type."

She glanced up at him to wonder why he would say that and he looked away as he spoke, "Over the years, I've watched you with Potter and... Weasley, and- if there's something unresolved there... maybe we shouldn't-."

Frustrated again at his assumption, she interrupted him, "Where are you getting this information from, Draco?"

He paused, "Well, ever since the Yule Ball-"

She raised an eyebrow questioningly.  _What could he possibly know about that?_

He continued, "Most people knew how neither Potter nor Weasley asked you to go. Those same people  _all_ noticed when you and Weasley got into a shouting match that night..."

Nodding hesitantly, she could recall that night very clearly. Embarrassed that anyone knew of the details, she agreed, "Yes, I wanted Ron to ask me. Viktor did first, and that was sweet, but... I mean, I wanted  _anyone_  to ask me, really."

Feeling ashamed, Draco answered, "I wish I-..." He cleared his throat. "Anyone who didn't ask you straight away was a coward and an idiot."

She blushed. Besides insulting himself and every other boy at Hogwarts, she also concluded that he was only trying to make her feel better. The music stopped.

Plainly seeing her disbelief, he went on, "You took  _my_  breath away. I mean, you took  _everyone's_  breath away." He huffed, "As if being smarter than  _everyone_  wasn't impressive enough."

Coloring even more, Hermione leaned in closer as they continued to sway to the echo of the song that had passed. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Malfoy."

He hummed lightly, "Did you even notice  _me_  between Krum and Weasley?"

She gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "I  _did_ notice you: you were the blond prince I secretly couldn't keep my eyes off of."

He looked at her, surprised, "Well I did agree that you were good at keeping secrets, after all. I  _was_  tempted to ask you to dance. I knew if I had, it would have shocked everyone."

"If you had asked, Ron and Harry would have hexed you."

" _If_  you actually said yes, that is."

Thinking on that for a moment, she struggled to put herself back into their past perspective, "I might have assumed it was a joke, and would have denied you, both to save my pride and to avoid trouble..."

He nodded, knowing she was right and feeling a spike of remorse that she would have assumed his motives were based on cruelty. Though reflecting on their interactions over the past few hours, she was probably right.

"I'm sorry about your wand. I just thought... you were determined to leave with or without me... and I know you'd be fine without me, but I just- reacted."

Gazing into his soft grey eyes, she replied, "Draco, I don't want to go  _anywhere_  without you. I want-"

That was more than enough for Draco, so before she could finish, he abruptly kissed her.

Hermione felt stupefied for a second, but quickly pressed back, causing him to bump into the couch. He swiftly gained his balance again, never leaving her lips, then pulled her hips closer and she hooked her hands over his neck.

Hermione relished the way Draco kissed. It seemed perfectly timed, as if he had strategized her every move in advance. If her tongue wanted a taste of him, he was ready. If she wanted to merely peck his lips, he somehow knew. He was nothing like Viktor, who had always seemed to be awkwardly in the wrong spot all of the time, recalling the kiss to be very messy.

No, this was not the same as the snogging in the hallways of Hogwarts that she used to envy, this was far more... this was NEWT level, at least.

As their breathing intensified, Hermione hummed with pleasure. Then to her disappointment she felt him pull away from her, breathing heavily against her lips, "Really, on a first date, Granger?"

She grinned while catching her breath, "Oh yes, I believe you're supposed to walk me to my door first."

She tipped her head toward her bed, then back at Draco. Obediently, he held out his hand for her to take and walked with her to her bed before giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Well, Granger, not a bad first date. Nothing to write home about, but you know..."

Glaring, she retorted, "Not interesting enough for you? Getting a vial thrown at your head didn't win you over?"

He quipped, " _That_  might have been the highlight!"

She giggled before settling on his eyes, which seemed to be burning with wonder. For a moment, she reflected back on Muggle movies and television shows, when one person would say a clever remark to persuade the other to come inside, even though the intentions were quite obvious. "Draco? Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

Draco studied at her, not having prepared himself for her to go in that direction. He had already slept in her bed, and they had fooled around, but he was not sure how far she was ready to go with him. As if trying to find the answer in her face, he stared at her. Maybe too long, because her expression soon grew worried.

"I mean, you don't have to- I was just- I've just never done this... and-"

If possible, Draco was now even more intrigued because once again, without meaning to, she had implied that she  _did_  want to go further with their relationship.

If she was ready, then he absolutely was. To avoid making her feel rejected, he quickly and confidently replied, "Granger, you know how much I like your coffee."


	17. Acclimate

Hermione lay sideways on her bed, nervously watching as Draco moved closer to her. Though irrational, there was a part of her that thought his singular experience with Pansy Parkinson meant that he was going to be expert-level at anything that might happen next. She worried about looking foolish, or like some anxious puppy, and tried to calm her nerves.  _It's fine... you can do this, just let him lead and it will be fine. No, it will be wonderful._

It struck her just then, that she had no idea what it would be like. Usually she could visualize what might happen in the future, managing at least a fuzzy likelihood, if nothing better. But now it was a blank canvas. She stared at him as he got closer, becoming more and more anxious, until he touched her. It was soothing and she felt reassured that everything was going to be fine.

Draco gently placed his hand on her back as he leaned in to kiss her. Hermione reciprocated, running her fingers through his hair again and down the back of his neck. She wondered if he would ever tire of her doing that, and hoped he wouldn't. All of her nerves simultaneously switched from panic to desire and she kissed him harder. In only moments, she was acutely aware of wanting him so obviously,  _Is this too aggressive, are we moving too quickly?_  There was something about being secluded in the tent, away from the rest of the world, which allowed her to let go of her usual inhibitions. But then, Draco made her feel that way in general, absolving any pretense of formality.

As their kissing intensified, Hermione found herself creeping up Draco's shirt again. He instantly began to help her until he remembered something, "I hate to slow your advances, but I think I need to take off my medallion before it gets lost."

Pausing to think, she remembered something in her purse, grabbed it, and produced a small music box. "Here, it's empty and there's a small latch that will keep it closed."

He began to take off his necklace, though Hermione could only see something snag at his ear as he pulled it over his head. Deciding she should take hers off as well, she carefully placed it in the box along with his for safekeeping.

Clearly wanting to get back into the moment, Draco peeled his shirt off. Hesitantly, Hermione did the same. He scanned her quickly and moved in close again, pushing her onto her back and slowly pressing kisses from her neck all the way down to her waist where her jeans began, hoping to continue where they had left off the last time. He paused before peeking up at her in an unspoken request. She nodded slightly in response.

Hermione was incredibly nervous, as this was definitely something she had never done before. What was she to do while he was... down there? Her thoughts began to swirl with questions,  _What if he doesn't like what he sees? Should I help? Is he enjoying this? Is he as nervous as me?_

He slowly undid the button on her jeans before pulling down on the zipper, glancing up at every move as if to gauge her reaction. She could tell he was trying to exude confidence, and she might have fallen for it if not for the bobbing of his adam's apple that gave his nerves away. She wondered if he knew that about himself. Either way, it made her feel better that she was not the only one feeling slightly insecure.

He slid her pants down, removing them completely and taking a moment to study her newly exposed legs before moving back up to kiss her lips. She was glad to have him back near her, as it made her shy to see him look at her that way. Meanwhile, Draco had pressed himself against her, his hands exploring her exposed hips and her lower back.

Feeling like she needed to say something in an attempt to hide her nervousness, she teased, "I see your  _condition_  is back."

"I'm certain there's a cure..." Draco grinned, grabbing her hip harder as he slid his hand down the back of her thigh. She wrapped her leg around him as he groaned.

By now, even though she was enjoying the feel of him against her, she also felt that she should be making the next move. His pants? She stalled and continued to kiss him. His pants, off, would mean  _knowing_  what to do with him after she had removed them. She chastised herself; she  _wanted_  to do this, and did not want to appear clueless, despite that she had already told him she was a virgin.

She resolved to slide her hand down his chest, her fingers grazing over his navel, until they came to rest at the button of his trousers. Flicking the button open, he jerked slightly as if surprised but allowed her to continue. She attempted to shuffle his pants down but Draco took the lead, getting them off quicker.

The warmth of his body back against hers was wonderful. Hermione had never imagined that simple flesh on flesh could make her feel such a carnal mixture of simultaneous comfort and lust.

Her hands ventured down his back and around his shoulders, while he kept busy kissing her neck. She became distracted by a particular spot he had kissed that caused her to sigh. In reply he breathed hard into her neck and continued in the same spot. Something about it seemed to release the last of her inhibitions, as she hooked one of her legs around his hip. He shifted his hips to accommodate her, causing his arousal to rub against her center. Her breath caught when he groaned with obvious enjoyment.

Draco's hands wandered from her back slowly toward her front, cupped her breast as he kissed the exposed skin above her bra-line. Feeling the moment catching up to her, Hermione's heart began to race, "Draco, I-"

She found herself unable to communicate, and he paused. He looked up her, "Tell me. Tell me what you want..."

She only watched him, unsure how to answer.  _How does one without experience say what they want?_

Draco could sense her nervousness rising up again like a wall between, but did not want to lose the moment. Leaning down to kiss her breast again, he breathed, "Show me." He looked up at her, "Show me how  _you_ touch yourself..."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She had pleasured herself before, but that was private. What if he thought how she did it was ridiculous and strange?

"You don't have to. I just want to know what you like. You can... guide me," he encouraged, sensing her hesitation. Taking note of her tense body under him, he glided his thumb across her navel as if calming a timid pet. "That is, if you want to."

Hermione did not want to give him the wrong idea, and she certainly did not want to stop what they were doing. She nodded quickly and swallowed hard.  _If I were doing this myself, where would I start?_

Draco moved back to watch as she shifting her body up slightly. Reaching behind her back to unsnap her bra, she felt it loosen and she shyly watched him as she shrugged it off.

It took her a moment to interpret the look on his face. He looked as if he was about be handed the Triwizard Cup, but instead,  _she_  was the prize. Something about that made her feel more confident, allowing her to push past her nervousness and continue.

Lying back, she slowly began to slide her hands across her own breasts. Draco appeared frozen as he watched, and in a moment of uninhibited daring, she took hold of one of his hands, guiding it to her chest to do the same. The second his hands cupped her bare breasts, he released a quick breath. His fingers nearly covered them entirely and she wondered if he would think they were too small, but her mind quickly shoved the worry away as she was overtaken by satisfaction. Her head tilted back with relief. She also realized that simply, no one had ever touched her breasts like this. Sure, she had been groped over her clothing whilst snogging Viktor, but no one had gone this far with her before. She wondered if that would please Draco to know.

In awe, Draco's brain seemed unable to catch up to the surreal moment he was in. He felt that if there had been an hourglass dripping with sand, it might have stopped. Never before had he had this type of slow, intimate contact with a woman, and he was eager find out what she 'liked' next.

Hermione was intrigued by his intense stare on her breasts, until he leaned down to kiss each one softly and slowly. Her heart fluttered and her hips shifted up against his arousal unexpectedly.

Draco looked up at her, curious if she  _did_  somehow know what she was doing, given her move. He lifted an eyebrow, "And now, Miss Granger, what is your bidding?"

She bit her lip, then took his hand to slide it lower, past her navel, until it disappeared into the waistband of her knickers. Willingly taking the hint, he shifted lower to begin tugging them off. Hermione leaned up slightly to watch, finding it strange to be completely undressed by someone. A moment later, the extremeness of the situation came rushing forward again. He was seeing such an intimate part of her, what if it was not what he was hoping for? What if Muggle-borns were completely different?  _This is ridiculous, Hermione, you know you aren't..._

Once her knickers had been removed, she closed her legs on instinct. Draco lay on his side, gazing at her nudity, but his eyes flickered up to her face when he sensed her apprehension. He moved to kiss her shoulder, then her collarbone. Looking up at her as she eased back a little, he took her hand and kissed her palm. "And now?"

Hermione flashed him a quick smile and took his hand again, guiding it toward her inner thighs. She edged one leg outward and settled his palm on the heat of her center.

Draco let out a gust of breath, releasing a moan at the same time, he had not been ready for her to go straight for the gold. For a moment, he was frozen as he attempted to comprehend the reality of her wet slit on his fingers. He needed to get ahold of himself. Dropping his forehead to her stomach, he kissed her soft skin, noticing that her body was slightly stiff and breathing hard. Then he felt her hand stroke his hair and looked up at her. It was difficult to speak, and he only hoped whatever came out made sense, "I want to... Hermione, do  _you_  want me to?"

Hermione did not understand why he sometimes chose to use her first name over her last, or why it made her nerves unravel. Her only response was lifting her hips against his palm. Then, reaching down, she placed her hand over his and guided him inside of her. They both exhaled loudly.

Draco wished he had something to bite down on while two of his fingers slipped inside of her. His moan was muffled where his lips hovered over the skin of her stomach. He was unsure, but he thought he might have taken a nip at her skin. It was difficult to concentrate on his hands when there was a persistent erection straining against his boxers.

Hermione yelped lightly from his small bite of her skin, but her attention was quickly rerouted back to the thrill of his fingers dipping inside of her. He began slowly at first, but was soon plunging inside of her, causing her hips to buck slightly.

There was so much Draco wanted to do, all at once, but he held back, reminding himself that he was trying to follow her lead, especially for her first time. Unsticking his clenched jaw, he managed to choke out a whisper, "And... what else?"

Breathing hard, Hermione pulled his fingers out from within her, and slid them a bit higher to her small pulsing bud. She honed in on the feeling of his fingers coated with her slickness, as they slid back inside of her, she continued to guide him through it again, out and up, then back in again. Having someone else touch her here, in this way, was magical and erotic in a way she had never experienced before. Eyes squeezed shut, she writhed with pleasure as she felt his body lean into her, understanding her instruction and following her lead.

A sense of languorous surrender bubbled up from somewhere within her, and Hermione allowed her legs to fall farther apart, with one falling to rest against his waist.

Concentrating on the control of his fingers, Draco noted every little reaction he got out of her, like when she breathed the hardest as his fingers barely slipped across her clit. Eventually, her hand slid away completely and he continued solo, using the pattern she had taught him.

As her hand nearly fell to the side, she felt him grab her hand and suddenly her fingers were in his mouth. He muffled a moan and she felt like she was in some other world, feeling the softness of his tongue and the grit of his teeth as he sucked on her fingers while his other hand continued its lesson between her legs.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she gasped as his fingers curled inside of her, hitting somewhere deep within and hitherto unknown.  _How... why? Merlin, this feels good_...

Draco popped her fingers out of his hot mouth and her eyes flickered up to him. His face was mixed with awe and determination. He continued to sink his fingers inside her warmth, and it was all too good to be true. He must have felt her attention on him, because he looked up and met her gaze with lust-filled eyes, stopping his fingers at her clit, rebelliously staying there and making small circles with the pad of his fingers. Hermione rolled her head back and arched her body from the sensation, releasing a low moan.

Meanwhile, Draco was immensely proud of himself: every hitched breath, every moan he coaxed from her, was worth all his family's fortune. Admiring the view of a completely nude Hermione panting on the bed beside him, he took a moment to watch her breast rise and fall, noticing that her nipples had hardened atop her soft mounds. He looked back up at her, smirking, "Does this feel good?"

All Hermione could do was nod. She did not even care that he was being snarky. She felt him lean lower, sweeping kisses along the insides of her thighs, his stubble tickling her slightly. Somehow the feeling made her legs fall even further apart. She hummed, "Draco, you feel so good... come here."

Obeying without thought, he moved higher to kiss her, still refusing to remove his hand from between her legs. Their mouths clashed and then he purposefully released their kiss, ignoring Hermione's disappointment as he shifted lower to kiss her breasts again. His finger circled the dusky pink base of her hardened peaks before he swiped his clever tongue across the top. Then he filled his mouth with the tip of her breast all while pushing his fingers further inside of her, curling them again as he had before.

Hermione's mouth fell open and her entire body arched as a frisson of excitement lanced through her core. Her hand shot up to grip the back of his neck, pulling him closer and insisting that he kiss her again.

Slowly pulling his fingers out, Draco gathered her in his arms, pressing her body against his. But she pushed back slightly and suddenly her fingers were teasing at the waistband of his boxers. She gently edged her fingers inside, and when her hand skimmed to top of his uncomfortably rigid length, he stifled his groan into her neck, hoping he would be able to contain himself.

Hermione smiled over his shoulder, "Does  _that_  feel good?"

Draco exhaled, she wanted to be clever at a time like this? He did not have the patience for it, not when his need for her was so deliriously powerful. He whispered back, "Take me. Take all of me, Hermione."

Her eyes widened. How did she not expect that he would want that? After all, she did want to go farther than this. She moved back to look into his heavy-lidded eyes. He only watched, waiting for her to make her decision, but it was already made.

Hermione's fingers crept further inside of his boxers, feeling the soft skin of his arousal. When her hand closed around him, his head fell forward onto her shoulder. He released a long groan for a second before his dexterity returned and he quickly made a move to yank his own boxers off. Hermione began to let go of him, but he quickly stopped her, keeping her hand firmly around his arousal.

Once the boxers were gone, having disappeared somewhere at the end of the bed, he grasped her hip to move back closer, his forehead falling against hers. Her arm was between them, not letting go of him as he quietly requested. Draco took a deep breath, attempting not to explode, but his body wanted more. He studied her face while his hand lay over hers, as he endeavored to show her how  _he_  liked it.

Draco's hot breath was heavy as he guided her grip on him to move up and down. His verbal responses were nearly incoherent, relegated to nodding in approval and a few quiet utterances of  _'yes'_  or the occasional trembling groan.

Draco knew that he would not last long, not with her body pressed flush against his and her delicate hand stroking his cock. He needed to do something else... something that would not end this moment for them, but it was so difficult to think. He knew his body would hate him for asking her to pause, but there was no other choice.

Before she could send him over the edge, he brought her hand to a halt and cleared his throat. "Hermione, can I... kiss you?"

Loosening her hand from his arousal, he slid his own down her thigh and softly stroked her entrance.

It took Hermione a second to figure out what he was really asking, followed by another second to decide if she was ready for  _that_. It must have been quite obvious that she was imagining all sorts of things, because Draco affirmed, "I've never done this before either. You can tell me what you like."

It took her by surprise, but it did appeal to her that this would be also  _his_  first of something.

While she stumbled over her answer, he lowered himself down, kissing her hip, down her thighs, whispering against them, "Hermione, I want to taste you..."

She could feel heat creeping into her cheeks, not just from the sensual way he had said it, or even the words themselves, but because she could not imagine why he would want to do  _that_. Tilting her head slightly to approve, she watched him kiss her thighs open again.

As he settled between her thighs, he reached to grab her hand and placed it onto the back of his head. It made her curious as to why, but she still took the opportunity to skim her fingers over his scalp until her hand got lost in his blond locks. He peeked up at her, as if waiting for something. Though she was unsure, it occurred to her that this was a request to control him. She swallowed hard and applied a soft pressure on his head and he obediently edged closer to her center. It felt strange at first, to be doing this to another human, but then her body fluttered when she stepped outside of herself and realized that she was in control of Draco Malfoy, and he  _wanted_ it. What would anyone think if they knew? Somehow that made her feel even more aroused.

Nervous or not, she was pleased by his faint moan, and she suddenly understood the favor of pleasure going on between them. A simple kiss on her center distracted her from further thought. Then, without further warning, he swiped his tongue across her clit.

A loud whimper escaped her of its own volition, causing Draco's erection to twitch. Quickly glancing up, he saw her hand had slipped off his head and her mouth hung open. A smirk quickly grew upon his face. He enjoyed the view that he had caused, her breast lifted higher with every heavy breath that she took. So he thought to do it again.

Hermione tried to sit up against her elbows to see exactly what he had just done, watching as his smiling eyes disappeared back down between her legs. The feeling of his hot tongue, juxtaposed with a cool sweep of air across her clit, was magnificent. She felt her muscles pulse and her flesh throbbed for more.

Draco felt powerful from the sight of her legs beginning spreading even further apart. Satisfied that she was enjoying this, he was determined to give her more. He gripped her hips and yanked her down closer to him, earning him a gasp. Then, agonizingly slow, he lathed his tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top of her clit. He was rewarded again when another faint sound escaped her lips.

"You taste  _so_ good, Granger... do you want more?"

He lifted his eyebrows, pushing for an answer, deciding he would not continue until she had.

Hermione looked down at him, her heart racing. She knew that it would only feed his arrogance but at the moment, she did not care. Her head fell back onto the pillow, accepting his current power over her. "Yes..."

She could sense his grin, hearing it in his voice when he teased, "I can't  _hear_ you, Granger..."

She propped herself up again and looked at him: yes, he was grinning for sure. She exhaled, knowing that if she gave him what he wanted, maybe she could have this new pleasure that she never knew she needed. "Please, Draco, don't stop..."

Her response took his breath away, and his face dropped. He had been expecting more of a fight, more banter. Once again, his cock twitched; Hermione Granger just begged him to pleasure her. His nose flared and he swallowed hard, already missing the taste of her, so he quickly dove back for more.

Hermione fell back onto the pillow, hard, moaning as his clever tongue moved quickly against her clit. She found herself needing to grip his shoulder and rocking herself against his mouth. More faint moans seemed to fall from her lips and her body began to stiffen. She recognized this build-up, but had never before experienced it being brought on by someone other than herself.

Draco tried to control himself whilst he was between the legs of this bucking, untamed woman that he still could not believe was actually Hermione Granger. Uncertain what might cause her to completely unravel, he noticed her breathing had become short, so he took a chance and flicked his tongue right over her swollen clit. He felt her hips jolt, and heard Hermione release a unique, high, feminine wail.

Her body suddenly fell. Had she been flying before? This was far different from when she did this alone. It was beyond better. She was unable to think, and tried desperately to collect herself, but her mind felt as if it were full of... what were they called? Wrackspurts?

Draco sat up, staring at her, his lips swollen and glistening. He had never pleasured a woman like that before.  _This is what it's like_. He was overwhelmed by a sense of pride and accomplishment. It  _was_  Hermione Granger, after all: not only was she exceptionally strong-willed and reserved, she was also a precious jewel that Draco imagined any man might pine over.

He watched her, breathing hard as she started up at the canvas ceiling. She seemed to be inside her own head. Draco climbed over her, his unabated arousal trailing up her leg and stopping at her waist. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "That was amazing."

Exhaling deeply, she offered him a half-smile, or whatever her body was capable of at the moment. It was a relief to her that he seemed to have enjoyed it, even though she did not completely understand why. Gratefully, she edged her neck up to kiss him on the lips, but found that she could taste herself on him. She was unsure if she liked it or not.

Feeling his knowing smile against her lips, her gaze was drawn to his mouth. She watched as he licked his lips and leaned in to kiss her again. Suddenly, she did not mind the taste, as she associated it with him pleasuring her.

As if finding a second wind from his kiss, she pressed needfully against him and wrapped her leg around his waist.

Draco groaned again as his shaft slipped across her wetness. He paused, suspended in a moment of not knowing if the evidence of her arousal slathered all over the skin of his prick would unravel him completely. "Hermione..."

"I want you, Draco..."

Eyes widened and pupils dilated, Draco exhaled dramatically from her unexpectedly confident response.  _Fuck._  He watched her eyes to be sure she meant it, and she must have known what he was looking for, because she nodded.

Leaning down to brush away some sweaty wisps of hair from her forehead, he kissed her there. He was ready... and now, so apparently, was she.

. . . . . . .

Author's note:

Was this chapter worth the wait? AY? I can't hear you??  (echooo...) 

I'd like to thank my beta, HeartOfAspen, for this extensive journey.


	18. Covet

As Draco pressed a few light kisses on her face, a gust of wind from outside jostled the canvas of the tent. Both their heads turned in the direction as if they might be able to see something, but there was nothing. All it did was remind them that there was a world out there waiting for them to surrender.

Hermione looked back up at Draco, and could only think that she wanted to take advantage of this time. She was as ready as she would ever be and pulled him down to her for a kiss. As she glided the tips of her fingers across his back, she thought on the beauty of how he made her feel. Hidden beneath his teasing banter, he was kind. Maybe too kind, because he was now kissing her neck and she felt somehow that he was stalling for her sake.

Suspecting his concern that she was not ready, she opted to remove any doubt by taking the lead, reaching down between them and wrapping her fingers around his arousal. A moan escaped him before he looked up at her in surprise. Smiling and hoping to impress him further, she allowed her hand to wander lower, grazing her fingers across the mound of soft flesh.

Draco threw his head back and groaned, "Granger..."

Hermione's stomach leapt,  _Did he really like that?_

Draco gripped a pillow and decided that this was enough teasing. He needed her, needed to be inside of her.  _This is urgent. She wants it, it needs to happen. NOW._ He silently wrestled with his own mind, as she gracefully stroked him. Granting himself a moment of concentration, he paused his kisses to collect himself, breathing hard against her neck. He would have to consolidate all of his effort to make this go well, for both their sakes. She began to slip the tip of him between her legs and taking the hint, he gripped her bum for leverage and gently thrust himself inside her.

Time slowed and she noticed every move he made and every sound nearby, like the distant crickets that seemed to croon between gusts of wind whipping at the tent. Right over her, she honed in on Draco's short breaths against her neck while the tip of his length slid further inside of her. Her breath hitched and she wondered if he was fully inside of her,  _Oh that wasn't so bad._  Then, as he continued, there was a slight pain like the insides of her were angry for the intrusion. Wincing, she began to panic,  _This is not going to work. Nope, this is not how it should be, I'm certain_.

Draco paused at the expression on her face, "Are you okay? Should I stop?"

She hesitated in answering him and Draco noticed she seemed distant. He tried to look into her eyes but when she looked back, he sensed mostly regret. Dismayed, he scrambled for something to say,  _Say it feels good, no, say... it's perfect, that she's perfect, no... you're losing her! Just say SOMETHING..._

Pulling out slightly, Draco kissed her cheek and whispered, "Hermione, this is... everything."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, wondering what that meant. Taken aback, she could only stare at him until something in his gaze caused her to pull his neck down. She kissed him hard. Somehow, without consciously realizing it, she had translated his reassurances to mean that this was not just a casual thing, it was more... and apparently to him, possibly  _everything_.

Their kiss gained a new intensity and she reached low and gripped his bum to pull him closer, causing his arousal to slip further inside of her. He released their kiss to watch her, to be sure she still wanted to continue. Nodding, she lightly patted his backside, which made him huff with an almost-laugh before leaning in to kiss her again.

Moving slower this time, he managed to push past the area of pain, and then it wasn't as bad. The more he rocked against her, the better it became.

She tightened her legs around him, generating a moan and more hard breathing from him as he thrust harder. It was a mixture of both pleasure and pain; Hermione must have subconsciously wanted him to feel that too, so she dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

The feeling of her nails rooted into his skin made Draco sink even deeper inside. In near unison, they both groaned. Hermione basked in the feeling of him buried inside of her.  _THIS is what everyone is always talking about! It makes so much sense now._

Trying to resume his steady rhythm, Draco had to focus on trying not to burst. A downward glance featured her breasts bobbing in time with his rocking, which did not help matters. Before he could stop himself, he cupped one and leaned down to taste it.

Hermione wailed, both in response to his action and at the change in angle. He began pounding somewhat harder, his skin slapping against her clit in such a way that she hoped it would happen again.

At some point, Draco realized that Hermione had reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, and was gently stroking his head. Having never imagined this type of soft affection could be mixed with such fervor, he released her breast from his mouth to leaned his head into her massaging hand. Then he moved to kiss her neck again and tried focusing on a few spots before finding the point of pleasure. When she groaned in response, he moved to grip the bedpost behind her.

She clutched his hips as he created a slow in-and-out that nearly drove her mad. Even despite all the gossiping about sex which had so obsessed her peers, no one had warned Hermione of  _this_  feeling... the warmth of their skin touching, the emotional connection, feeling every part of him. She supposed it varied on the lover, but from the way Draco kept looking at her as if to check if he was doing okay, or if she was enjoying herself, made her want to burst. It was combination of all these things that quickly spiraled her into her second orgasm.

Draco could feel her body tightening around him and knew what might come next, nearly popping at the thought.  _Keep it together, ugh, this is so... I can't_. Pulling her leg high against him, he thrust still harder into her. It hit another spot, causing them both to gasp loudly.

Digging her nails further into his shoulders, she rocked her hips against him, reveling in the feeling her wet clit slapping against his skin, "Draco, I'm-"

Her words were cut off by her own high-pitched keening, which caused Draco's ears to prickle and the muscles around his groin to tighten. Unable to hold back any longer, it took only a few seconds more for Hermione's peak of pleasure to become his as well. He elicited a low growl followed by a long hum of satisfaction as his cock pulsed with relief.

As Hermione's awareness trickled back to reality, she observed his face softening and she could tell he was fighting the impulse to collapse on top of her. Draco attempted to casually pull out of her, remaining close by her side.

As she leaned over to kiss his lips, she wondered what it had felt like for him. A moment later, she was mentally debating which orgasm had been more magical for her, cast from his lips or his wand. Altogether, she was amazed by both  _and_  that it all had happened at one time.

After a few moments spent lying in bed and catching their breath, Draco made himself comfortable on his side before grabbing her waist and pulling her against him.

"You were amazing... you're so perfect. I wanted to go longer but, I couldn't-" His exhaustion leaving him at a loss for words, his head fell onto her stomach.

Hermione smiled down at him, enjoying his inability to articulate, "Not so bad yourself, Malfoy."

Draco looked up, eyes searching for some sort of approval, wondering if she actually meant that. He only got a light giggle out of her, causing him to shake his head. Resting his head back down on her stomach, he reached for her hand and imperiously plopped it onto the back of his head. Taking the hint, she grazed her fingers through his sweaty hair while he trailed his fingers up and down the length of her bare leg.

As usual, Hermione's many thoughts began to catch up to her while they lay together in comfortable silence, her fingers now beginning to twine around locks of his hair.  _Is everything I did... he did- normal? Was that better than normal? Was it meant to go longer? Did he enjoy it as much as I did? I should just ask... No, then I'll look naïve!_

She felt his fingers tickle her knee and she could not help but smile to herself.

 _I can't believe he did that, down there. That was, it was... amazing! Did he really like it, or did he like it because I liked it?_ She paused and let her hand rest on his head.  _I just lost my virginity to Draco Malfoy._ A moment later, Draco nudged his head against her stilled hand and she resumed playing with his hair.  _But it didn't feel like as big of a deal as everyone makes it out to be. It felt... natural. I thought it would be more difficult. Okay, do we just go to sleep now?_

Meanwhile, Draco also had thoughts running through his brain, mainly about her first sexual experience, and wishing it had been his first as well. Still, it had sort of felt like it was. He dared to think, to hope that this could be something more for her.

As he drew invisible lines with the pad of his finger, unconsciously connecting the sparse freckles on her legs, he mentally catalogued the last few hours and grimaced when he remembered what he had said to her.  _Everything? What does that mean, you idiot?_

Still, she had decided to continue after he had said it, so maybe it was not such a dull, vast thing to say after all. He wanted it to mean more than he could possibly convey, and he wondered if she understood that. Being accepted by Hermione Granger was already  _everything_. She had already given him enough to live off of before...  _this_.

Turning his head and propping himself up beside her on a pillow, he managed to rouse his spent body enough to kiss her again. He tried to think of something to say to her, to clear the air, maybe to prove that he had not just been trying to woo her into giving him sex. Kissing her shoulder, he exhaled deeply.

Before he could come up with anything to reassure her with however, she spoke first, "It's alright if you're tired. I am, too, you know... after  _everything_."

Glancing sharply up at her, he observed her peeking sidelong at him and grinning. Wrinkling his nose, he lowered his head so that his forehead rested on her shoulder, and mumbled, "Shut up, Granger."

Tightening his grip on her waist, he kissed her shoulder, but did not meet her eyes. Hermione smiled, recognizing how embarrassed he was, which only made his earlier comment all the more real. She looked at him again, noting his eyes were closed, and she wondered if maybe he was as exhausted as she felt.

Turning onto her side, she felt him loosen his grip, allowing her to shift. Once she had settled, his hold on her gradually returned. A moment later, she could feel Draco's hand blindly searching for the blanket which had been shunted to the bottom of the bed. Finding it, he pulled it up to cover them both.

Sighing, she nestled her back against his front before raising her hand and casting a wandless spell to extinguish the lights. From the space he occupied within the darkness, he gripped her waist tighter and made a small grunting noise to chastise her for using unnecessary magic.

Hermione closed her eyes and whispered, "Shut up, Malfoy."

Giving a faint snort, Draco kissed her bare back and lay there, knowing that there was not anywhere he would rather be in that moment. Eventually, her soft rhythm of breathing brought him enough comfort that he fell into his own slumber.

. . .

After only three hours of sleep, Hermione began to stir and her incoherent mumbling abruptly woke Draco. Concerned, he leaned over her to see if she was having another nightmare.

"It's okay, it's just a dream." Suddenly the mumbling stopped and she fell quiet. He waited, but her breathing had become more quiet. "You okay?"

From where she still lay sideways and facing away from him, Hermione turned her neck slightly to respond, "Yes..."

Relieved, he fell back onto his pillow, ready to settle back to sleep. "I think you were starting to have another nightmare."

Sleepily, Hermione dissented, " _Definitely_  not a nightmare..."

Pleased, Draco began to settle in close to her again. Tired as he was, it took him a bit longer to process Hermione's unintended double-meaning, "Wait, what do you mean by  _definitely not a nightmare_?"

Hermione was quiet again, but not sleeping. Draco gambled on if he should push an answer out of her or let her sleep, but now his mind was wandering and he did not want to risk that she might forget the dream by morning, "Granger...?"

She whispered back, mockingly, "Malfoy...?"

"Come now, what did you mean?"

Hermione sighed. She was hardly good at lying when she was wide awake, let alone just after waking up. He would surely pester her until she told the truth anyway. "Draco, it was a dream... about you, okay? Back to sleep now."

But Draco was now more curious than before. He shifted closer to her, "Oh? Details, Granger..."

But there was only silence from her. He could only assume it was a dream of the more naughty variety for her to be too shy to answer. The thought of Hermione having that type of dream caused him to stir.

"Granger, don't be embarrassed... I want to hear." To convince her, he leaned to kiss her neck.

 _Where's that spot, is it the same on this side?_  He had his answer when she hummed and reached her arm back to caress his neck.

"Come on, Granger. You want to tell me, I know you do." He glided his knuckles down the side of her breast and toward her hip, where he paused to wait for her reply.

Meaning it only as an attempt at affection, she resituated one of her legs around his, only noting then how achy she felt. In response, she felt his thigh wedge between her legs then press up against her center. She mewled quietly.

Draco hardened against her back at the feel of heat from her entrance pressing against his leg. He groaned, quietly allowing her name to roll from his mouth, "Gggranger... you're so...  _wet_."

His voice cracked slightly at the end of his last syllable and Hermione knew then that there was no way either of them was just going to fall back asleep. Her breath hitched when he slipped his thigh back and forth against her. Enticingly, she murmured, "How do you think I got that way?"

"I suppose... the same way I got  _this_..." He pressed his rapidly hardening member against the small of her back and she gripped his neck tighter. Then, removing his thigh, he quickly replaced it with his hand, not taking long to find her coveted pleasure point.

In return, she moved her hand from his neck and reached down behind her to embrace is arousal. He groaned into her waist. To his surprise, she arched her back, which opened up her hips as she held him between her legs.

In the dark, Draco could not search her face to see what she might be thinking, but he hoped. He had never been with a woman like this before. In fact, there were very few positions he had tried at all. Shifting lower, he adjusted himself and pressed up against her, wishing she would take her hand-lock off and let him dive in.

Hermione was well aware of his eagerness, but she kept her hand on him in such a way that allowed him to slide against her slit while she used her hand to stroke the length of him. Teasingly, she queried, "Do you like this?"

Draco was overwhelmed with the sensation but managed to nod, hoping she could understand his head bobbing against her lower back in the dark.

Purposely enunciating every syllable as crisply as she could, Hermione teased, "I can't hear you, Malfoy."

 _Fuck._ Draco could not handle this. She was obviously getting him back from earlier _._ When she tightened her grip, he managed to moan, "Please, Hermione... don't... stop."

She grinned to herself. The ego-boost combined with retribution for his earlier teasing was exactly what she had been aiming for...

...Or so she thought until he gripped her tight and begged under his breath, "Please. Take me."

Hermione's heart stopped. This was too far. This was more than a desperate request. Or was it? She was certain that she was even more wet than before, just from hearing his plea. Why had  _that_  affected her?

Biting down on her lip, she moved him into position so that he slid inside of her in a single movement. He moaned loudly in both relief and surprise, and she swore she heard him whisper, "Thank you."

Now that her hand was free, she drew it back up toward his neck, but he was lower now so instead she grasped his hair, tugging it slightly. This only caused him to thrust more deeply into her. Spreading her leg higher above his, she allowed him more room to continue. Little adjustments like this seemed to generate interesting reactions from him, she noticed. Sometimes it was a groan, or a faint "Merlin", but each thing caused him to plow harder into her, so she decided she could use it to her advantage.

Just as she began to think she had some sort of clue to how he worked, she felt the tips of his fingers glide over her bud, causing her to arch her back. Her hips spread wider, and though she did not understand how, he managed to sink even deeper inside.

Draco moaned again, "Merlin's ghost, how do you  _do_  that?"

His fingers moved up to grip her breast, and she gasped at his strength. He must have noticed her unfavorable reaction because he loosened his hold and leaned in to kiss the side of her breast as if to apologize. Taking custody of his hand, she placed it back onto her favorite spot above the action and he obeyed. As his fingers resumed their purpose, Hermione moaned at the return, her back arching again.

Leaning up, Draco kissed her sides blindly until he found what he was looking for and grazed his teeth across the side of her breast. This caused him to slip out of her, but he adjusted himself and thrust easily back inside of her again. She whimpered enticingly, so he thought to do that move again, and again.

Hermione was writhing from this feeling. She could feel coolness from him slipping out of her and then heat again as he plunged back inside. The contrast of him fucking her as he cleverly stroked her bud caused her head to roll back in pleasure.

This time, it was no surprise to Draco when she began to grind her hips harder and stiffen slightly.

Suddenly, Hermione released the first of three raspy moans. He could not help but notice the similarities from earlier that night: one short moan that meant she was right at her edge, one for the peak of her bliss, and one with a longer, satisfied affirmation that her pleasure had been fully achieved. After that, he could focus no longer on such details and became undone and with a deep groan.

In the dark, their labored breathing was all that could be heard. Neither could speak. Arching back, Hermione kissed him, which he lazily reciprocated before leaning in to caress her hip and pressing another kiss to her back as he pulled out of her. Then, shifting higher, he whispered into her ear, "I like your dreams, Granger... I hope I live up to them."

Hermione huffed, reaching her hand over to pat his bum, "Close enough, Malfoy. Close enough."

Grinning to himself, he went back to wrapping his arm around her as before, but this time she twisted her body to face toward him instead. In the dark, he could feel her hands on his cheek, then on his lips, before hers finally found his. "Can I sleep now?"

"Look, Granger,  _you_  woke  _me_  up..."

"Well, I trust you managed to get over it."

"If you want, I can wake you up every few hours for that."

Hermione snickered, "In your dreams, Malfoy!"

"No, Granger, apparently in  _yours_."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note:

A Quick 'Lick Spittle' if you will...

Flick and Swish, double smut! Leave it to Hermione Granger to "Wingardium LeviÖsa" her virginity right out the window, right?

Ha, well, if you're still reading this story, thanks, and let us all hope that my splendiferous, and truly bang up the elephant, bricky bit of jam, (as well as my all time favorite Sesquipedalian) doesn't back sling it anytime soon.

Thank you always; HeartofÅspen. 

; ; ; ; ; ;  < That's like equivalent to roses... but better.)


	19. Armor

As the morning sunlight streamed through the flap of the tent, Hermione awoke, turning to avoid the light she quickly noticed the ache of her body from the previous night's activities.

She shifted slightly to peek over at Draco, and finding him still asleep, she turned fully over to watch him. She had not expected this feeling of being a part of him. Curious, she wondered how last night had been compared to his first experience. He had said this was his  _first relationship_  and that he had done things that were new to both of them last night, and that made her feel more than significant.

Only a few days earlier, she had been nervous even to look at him or disturb his sleep, but today she did not hesitate. Sweeping his hair aside, she kissed his forehead. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed pink scratch marks across his pale shoulders, she gasped, recalling that they were from her. As she grazed her fingers across them it caused Draco to stir.

Looking up at her with sleepy eyes, he smiled, "Hey..."

Hermione fixed him with a concerned look and began to reach for her wand, "I can heal those-"

Draco quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. "Don't you dare-"

"What? Are you afraid I can't-"

" _Granger.._."

It took a second for realization to sink in. "Oh..."

 _He wants them there_? She snuggled under the covers and he held her closer.

Draco hummed, "I enjoyed myself last night..."

Hermione grinned to herself, "Was it...  _everything_?"

Looking at her quickly, he scrunched his nose. Before she knew it, he was tickling her side.

"Okay! Okay!" she yelped.

Satisfied, Draco let up before shifting to lay on his back. Staring at the ceiling of the tent, he warned, "Don't make me take it back..."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Nope, you can't take it back.  _That_  one's going in the pensive."

Draco broke his brooding with a hint of a smile and for a moment, they only gazed at one another.

Draco broke the silence, "Your legs?"

"So far..."

He nodded, turning back to the tent ceiling in deep in thought.

Sensing a change in him, she queried, "Are you worried to leave?"

He ran his hand through his hair, "If your legs last today, we leave tomorrow."

"What are your concerns?"

Draco turned to the curtains hanging above the bed, remembering how recently they had just been  _hers,_  though now they felt like  _theirs. But for how long?_

He tilted his head to look back toward her, explaining, "The Order."

Hermione nodded, "You want them to see that you've changed and that you don't have to prove yourself to anyone, because you've been through enough."

Draco looked back up at her, he could tell she was not finished, so he watched as she made a decent attempt at seeing his perspective on the matter.

"You don't want everyone to see you as an arrogant, prejudiced, privileged child anymore. But Draco, you can't control how everyone sees you. You're just going to have to be who you want to be, and they'll come around eventually... and those who don't understand probably have their own issues that they can't- they  _won't_  let go of."

Draco pushed some of her hair aside, avoiding her eyes.  _Control of how other people see me?_   _When did I ever have control?_ On several occasions he thought he had control, by doing what he thought was right, to please others: his father, his mother, the lineage of portraits sneering at him in the halls of the manor. Really, it was an illusion. A thick pus of manipulation that oozed out their mouths and which they passed off as a superior legacy. He had zero control.

Grazing his fingers along a snag on the fabric of the pillow, he internally swore he would never go back to the manor. This rustic tent was more than a haven for him now. It was where his repressed dreams had finally came to fruition... and they were about to leave it all behind.

Seeing the stray of his gaze, Hermione could tell his mind was somewhere else again, so she adjusted her position and pulled some blanket around her naked body to sit up, "Let me try something, okay?"

Perplexed, Draco sat up after she tapped his shoulder with a commanding flourish. She continued to wave them in his direction as if to refer to clothing he clearly did not have on.

"You've had this  _armor_ , this  _mask_ , and this  _crown_  on, for way too long-"

Draco scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

"This armor," she continued, "you wear to protect yourself from getting too close to anyone. It shields you from truth, and from getting hurt."

She slid her hands across his bare shoulders, down his forearm and to his hands. Her arms bowed as if she were carrying something heavy and heaved the invisible object away from them.

He smiled at her pretending, as it was very dramatic.

Hermione looked at him and nodded, "That was very heavy... oh, and pungent, too, since you never took it off and all..."

Draco let his head fall back on the bedpost, waiting for her to continue.

"Then there's this mask," she went on, "which hides you and your true emotions, your thoughts, your talents-"

She traced her hands along Draco's face, starting at his forehead and ending down at his neck. He closed his eyes at her touch, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he watched her toss another imaginary object.

"Wow, a clever and handsome young man is under there," she teased, " _who_ would have thought?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Hermione leaned in to give him a peck on the lips before continuing, "And now, for this crown-"

She studied the top of Draco's head as if she were inspecting something there. Squinting her eyes theatrically, she leaned in closer as if to read something on the imaginary crown.

"There's some fine print around the silver and green gemstones-"

 _Silver and green, really?_ Draco adjusted his sitting position and tilted his head, waiting for her respond. He could tell this was eventually going somewhere.

Hermione glanced down at him, pretending to assume she knew what he was thinking, "Oh yes, silver, _not_  gold. You're only a  _prince,_  you know. Nevertheless, the fine print reads: 'made of silver, and gems of burden, property of the royal Malfoy family.'"

Draco glanced away for a second and huffed for the implication. Then peeked back up at her to see if this little game would continue.

Shaking her head as if disappointed in what she saw, she continued, "No, we can't have that. This crown is ridiculous and must go-"

She lifted an imaginary crown off of his head, causing the sheet wrapped around her to slip down. Draco, who had been watching her closely, became distracted by her sudden nudity. His attention was brought back to her actions again, when instead of dramatically tossing the crown like the other imaginary items, she grabbed her small bag from the bedside table and pretended to place it inside.

He was disappointed when she then pulled the sheet back up to cover herself. "Not tossing that one, Granger?"

"No.  _That_ one I can have melted down, or sell, since you'll need the money once your family disowns you."

He snorted and she giggled, but quickly calmed herself before gazing into his eyes, "Well, the ceremony is over. How do you feel? Average?"

Smirking, Draco pulled her on top of him, "Well, now that I'm not an  _armored-burdened prince_... still interested?"

"Your self-loathing was aging you," she retorted matter-of-factly.

He gently squeezed her hips her for the comment.

"Plus, I  _think_  you'll find that  _this_  Draco will appeal to others more." She appeared to be mulling over something, "In fact, maybe I  _don't_  want you to show this side to others, in case I find myself with more competition."

Draco tugged her in toward him and whispered, "If you asked me to, I'd wear the armor for everyone  _but_  you..."

She looked up at him, pleased by the offer but only smiling softly before leaning her forehead against his and caressing his face, "No, Draco, you need to be free."

He kissed her and they stayed quiet for a moment.

"Granger, you have to promise to take me somewhere before we go."

She tilted her head, "And where is that?"

"Oh,  _that_  I can't tell you. Not until we're ready to leave."

"Why is it a secret until then?"

"Because you'll overthink it and change your mind. Just promise you'll take me, okay?"

Hermione had no idea why  _she_  would have to take  _him_. Was he attempting to prolong their departure? "Is this place going to alter our plans for finding Harry and Ron or the Order?"

"I don't think so, just a quick stop and then we move on."

Hermione was hesitant. She studied his face and could not interpret any sort of deception, "Okay."

"Trust me, you'll like it."

She was curious, but decided that maybe it was something sweet, so she attempted to let it go. "Okay, Draco, let's get up. I'm hungry."

She grabbed some clothes from her bag while Draco got up to fetch his own. As she watched him walk away, she realized that seeing him moving about in full light while nude was something she'd not had the pleasure of seeing yet She took a moment to admire his lean muscles and his tall frame.

Draco must have sensed her watching him, because he glanced back and drawled, "Stop gawking, Granger."

Defiantly, she only smiled and while putting her own clothes on she managed to watch him as he dressed.

The moment he returned, he leaned to kiss her, "Enjoy the show?"

"Best show I've seen in a long while."

Clenching his jaw, he could not help but wonder if she actually had  _this type of show_  before. After all, she had only confessed she was a virgin, but had not revealed any other intimacies. He tried his best to hide his thoughts, instead looking away at the floor.

Noticing his reaction, Hermione recalled his tendency toward jealousy. Realizing she would have to clarify, she caught his eye and softly assured, " _Your_  show was the  _only_  one with nudity..."

He glanced up, accepting a kiss from her and appreciating how she put him out of his misery, away from his dark thoughts. With some chagrin, he realized he had not been expecting his jealousy to be so obvious, but he trusted she would not use it against him.

He paused and looked at her, "Teach me..."

Hermione squinted at him, "What am I to teach you now? You did _okay_ last night."

Draco grinned and tapped his nose against hers, "Oh, I  _heard_ how well I did last night and I think it was more than _'okay'_."

"Well, there's  _always_  room for improvement, I suppose..."

Grabbing her hips suddenly, he pressed his body against hers, grunting softly into her neck as his teeth grazed her neck. Though she yelped in response, she honestly loved the banter between them. Flirting, which now felt almost like second nature, seemed easier now.

Pulling away, Draco looked at her again, "To cook. I'd like to learn to cook, _the Muggle way_."

Shocked, Hermione looked at him to see if he was teasing her, but he did not seem to be. "Fine, I can teach you. But then later, we practice Patronus charms, as that would be a more practical lesson."

Draco nodded, then led her into the kitchen where she spared no time in grabbing a pan and ingredients. She flipped a switch to ignite a fire, and for a moment, he was certain she had used magic, as he did not understand the mechanics of it. Once she began explaining, he shamelessly closed in on her, finding any excuse to lean against her while he made his best attempt to pay attention as she cracked an egg and sprinkled salt over it. He was curious how she just knew how everything would taste or how much to apply, but he ascribed it to being the same as remembering how much sloth brain gets added to Wiggenweld Potion.

Relishing how free it felt to press against her, Draco was unaware of how his grip had tightened on her waist.

"Are you paying attention, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Depends on to what you are referring, Miss Granger..."

"You said you wanted to learn... and I think it's best if you take over from here so  _you_  can focus."

He shrugged and took over while she watched him. Every so often he would glance up to ask for help, which she gave, until the meal was complete. Afterward, he was proud to know how to make one breakfast meal, along with tea and coffee.

"Not bad, Malfoy, you learned the basics," she complimented. "Most meals have similar prep and cooking."

Draco smiled before leaning in to kiss her, not wanting to stop, and wondering if she would consider trading one type of hunger for another. But he got his answer when she broke the contact to bring their food to the table.

They sat next to one another to eat, all the while their legs playfully brushing against each other beneath the table. Draco glanced over at the space where he usually sat, across from her. "You know, I'll miss this tent."

Hermione looked around, "Well, maybe we're not done with it."

"You don't think the safe houses will be adequate?"

"No. I just think we don't really know what will happen, and we might need it again."

He nodded, deciding that it was probably true.

"I know what you mean though," she continued, "it'll be different next time... you know, if we need to use it."

Draco sighed. This tent was where Hermione had opened up to him, become his friend, and clearly more. He pushed some food across his plate and mumbled, "Don't ever get rid of it."

"Draco, I'm not sure which of us is more sentimental, but I will  _never_  give up this tent."

Draco peeked up at her and gave her a quiet kiss.

He loved her. He wanted to tell her, and now, he figured, was one of those moments to say it. Still, he also knew it was far too soon, so he held back. Maybe Hermione was used to feeling this way with other people, with friends or family. For him, this level of love was very new and he was unsure when was  _normal_  to express it. He did not want to say anything that might overwhelm her or scare her off; after all, he recognized that they would probably need to focus on their mission from here on out.

"We should start strategizing," he said, "seeing as we'll most likely be leaving tomorrow."

Hermione agreed, so they spent the next few hours discussing possible plans and scenarios, some of which she hoped would never be needed. Afterward, they had a walk to the lake, where they ate a small picnic to say goodbye to it. There, Hermione made an attempt to teach Draco the Patronus charm. After many unsuccessful attempts, both began to grow concerned about using too much magic, so they stopped. Disappointed that he had not been able to produce even a silvery wisp, she decided she must not have been explaining it correctly. She wished Harry were here to help, though imagining Harry teaching Draco popped that bubble immediately. Still, she guessed that even Harry would be curious to see what Draco's animal guardian might be. On the way back to the tent to pack up, she could feel Draco's disappointment. Once in the tent, he remained quiet and appeared determined to pack.

Draco redirected his lack of wand-casting to organizing his potions and books. At least he was decent at potions, he thought as five more vials of her potion clinked in his hand. He placed them in his bag and did one more glance around, noting Hermione's Veritaserum still brewing in the corner.

"Granger, your potion is still here. Do you want to check on it before I pack it away?"

Hermione made her way over, inspected the potion, and remarked, "Nearly there. Will it keep once it's packed?"

Already prepared, Draco presented her with a larger vessel to let it brew in while packed. "Do you think I'll need to drink it?"

"If we find the boys, yes. Everything would just be quicker if they believed you and then we could move on."

Draco nodded in agreement. He was more than reluctant to have Potter and Weasley freely looting at his truths.

Hermione stopped short, "Oh, I still have the medallions in my little box. We should put those on before we leave."

Draco hesitated, curious about the little box, as most of the items she ever appeared to cherish were books. He hoped it was not from Weasley or Krum, but he did not recognize it from the wizarding world.

"That box, did someone give it to you?"

"Yes..." she paused. It's simple, and you wind it manually, and it plays a little tune..."

She was clearly holding back some information, as she had not mentioned who had gifted it to her. He recalled the box being old and worn. He played along, "Manually?"

"Yes, Draco, the Muggle way. It's simple I know, but in all of the chaos of, well... everything I entered into, I need a dose of simple, now and again."

Sensing her strong emotions toward the little box, and even though he had originally thought to wait until morning, the night was young and he decided that maybe it would be best to ask Hermione his request now, "Alright, ready to take me somewhere?"

She looked at him curiously before remembering his entreaty, "Oh. We are to go  _now_?"

"Yes, if you're _ready_..."

Suspicious that she had to be the one to take  _him_  somewhere, she answered, "I think I'm ready, but why don't you tell me whereI'm taking you?"

Draco grabbed her hand. "I want you to take me to see your parents."

________________________________________________

Author's Note:

Anyone out there? I hardly ask, I know. Anyway, appreciate you taking the time :)

Ok these weird poems are for my lovely beta (who has got quality Dramione for you to read, so migrate over to to her stuff):  

Tick tock goes the clock, beta don't you sigh.  
Tick tock, time is rough, your glitter's in my eye!  
Tick tock goes the clock, a drop of dragon's phlegm...  
'Tick tock', winked the moon, at the HeartofAspen.


	20. Quest

Hermione's heart nearly stopped.  _What? Now? Did he want to meet them now?_

"Draco... they won't-"

"I know they won't know who we are," Draco interrupted, "I just thought maybe  _you'd_  like to see them before we go, to check on them."

Hermione had to think. She  _always_  wanted to check on her parents, but it was too dangerous.

He lifted her hand to kiss it, "We don't have to, but I think, with not knowing what will happen, you'll feel better seeing that they're okay. We wouldn't be long."

After a moment of hesitation, she admitted, "I  _would_  regret it if I was this close and didn't go to see them."

Draco grinned, "Okay, when you're ready, then... I have my bag, just in case."

Hermione stood there, closed her eyes and exhaled.  _We'll go near them, not to them. They're probably not in, they're probably out anyway._ She opened her eyes, "Okay... I'm ready."

She gave him a kiss and held him tight, and together, they Disapparated.

They reappeared in a new location, surrounded by mid-sized houses. As the sun was beginning to set, she immediately noticed that the one directly in front of them had grey-blue paneling, and a little white fence.  _Shoot, too close._ It was either subconscious or the fact that she did not know the area well enough to Apparate elsewhere.

Tugging at Draco's hand to walk away from the house, she bumped into someone the moment she turned, "Oh, excuse me-"

Draco turned to see what had happened, his hand hovering where his wand was hidden in his pocket. There was nothing too strange about the person Hermione ran into, but he did not understand why she had suddenly become so pale in the face.

"It's alright," came the polite response. "Can we... help you?"

Hermione paused and closed her eyes. It was not at all strange that someone would ask that, especially if two strangers had appeared right in front of your yard.

Draco quickly looked at the middle aged man and woman before them. They appeared like average Muggles to him, dressed simple enough. He expected that Hermione would be able to communicate better with Muggles, so for a second he allowed room for her to respond, but she remained speechless. Draco felt her hand tighten around his. It took him a moment to connect, to really see the features of the strangers in front of him. Specifically, the features of the woman, though as she tilted her head, the glow of a nearby street lamp highlighted her features. He now noticed her hazel eyes, freckles and an uncanny resemblance to her brown untamed hair. This was Hermione's mother.

He looked at Hermione to see if she was going to snap out of it, then back at the couple. Seeing how overwhelmed she was, he let go of her vice-like grip and applied his new found cultural custom, reaching his right hand out eagerly, "Hi."

The older man instinctively reached out, and though he was regarding Draco with curiosity, he shook his hand.

"Er- we're lost and we were  _just_ admiring this house..."

The man bore a look of hesitant understanding. Meanwhile, his wife gave Hermione an apologetic look, "We seemed to have frightened you, my dear. Where were you headed? Maybe we can guide you."

Finally managing to get a hold of herself, Hermione answered, "That would be lovely. We're trying to find... a restaurant. We're new to this place, just visiting."

The couple glanced at each other before the man spoke, "Well, you're a bit of a way from any place that sells food around here. You might need a car, unless you're ready for a lengthy walk."

Draco stepped in again, "We love walking. Can you guide us in the right direction?"

The couple pointed south of where they were and the woman gave directions, "You would need to turn left, then head about fifteen blocks down, then a right. You'll eventually meet a village."

The man inquisitively looked at Hermione, "Your accent... are you from the Midlands?"

Hermione smiled, shakily responding, "Why, yes. We're on a long holiday."

The man smiled, " _We_ are from that area."

He waited for Hermione to respond, but she remained speechless again.

Seeing that she was not going to be forthcoming, the man closed off the conversation, "Well, please be careful walking back in the dark."

With a reassuring smile, the woman earnestly added, "Though, there isn't much to worry about unless you're afraid of bats, or have a fear of snails."

Draco was confused by her remark, but especially by how pleased she had looked by her own comment. Hermione, however, seemed to have shaken her stupor and responded quickly before her mother could continue, "Oh yes, aren't there giant, carnivorous snails on the South Island?"

Draco looked to Hermione with wide eyes, and the man grinned to his wife, "Looks like she knows as much about this place as you do my dear!"

Hermione watched her parents, remembering how they had always teased about how she was exactly like her mother... but they would not remember that.

Draco could tell that this banter had created a curiosity in her mother, confirmed by her next question, "Are you with your family here?"

Hermione nodded in a haunted way, quietly answering, "They're here... really... close by."

Draco could sense Hermione fading from the conversation, and worried she might break soon. He took an open opportunity, interrupting her mother's breath to another question, "Well, thank you for the directions. It was a pleasure to meet you."

He reached to shake both of their hands before tugging at Hermione to get going.

Hermione stared for a second more, then snapped out if it and managed to speak, "Thank you."

Tears bubbled in her eyes, knowing that they would have no idea what she was really thanking them for. She felt a pull at her arm and before a tear began to drop, she turned away, allowing Draco to guide her.

Once they were far enough, he looked around nervously as if Snatchers might suddenly appear there, "Are you ready to go back?"

At her nod of assent, he took out his wand and they Apparated back to their campsite.

The tent had never felt so silent. Hermione was quiet and even though she was in deep thought, Draco had his own, too. Reflecting on their little trip, he huffed out a faint laugh.

Hermione looked up, nearly offended. Did he think she was being overdramatic? "What?"

Draco kept busy packing as he continued, "I can safely say that the apple does not fall far from the tree," he smirked to himself, adding more items to his bag, "You look  _and_ think just like her..." He chuckled lightly, "I nearly added to your little New Zealand factoids. Like did any of the Granger girls know that New Zealand is home to the Antipodean Opaleye dragon? They-" Draco sensed she was far too quiet and uninterested in this, and paused to look over to her.

Hermione smiled for a second, but it quickly turned into a sob and Draco briskly walked over to her and pulled her in for a hug.

" _They_  are why you are fighting Hermione, you can do this."

She paused, then argued, " _We_."

Draco pulled back from their hug and looked at her. "Yes, it's what  _we_  are fighting for." He leaned to kiss her forehead, "Let's finish packing. Hey... the good news is, your legs are still working even after  _that_."

She nodded and they both quietly packed until she heard Draco snicker again, mumbling to himself, "Carnivorous snails..."

She looked up, he was shaking his head trying not to laugh. She pinched her lips and threw a shirt at him. "Shut up, Malfoy..."

Draco peeled the shirt from his shoulder and tossed it back to her. Taking inventory, he carefully placed the portkeys in his bag, still curious about the shape of the objects. They became a reminder of the first few days in the tent, when she insinuated that he had searched through her possessions. It led him to reflect on the pain of leaving his own mother behind. "Your parents..." He looked up to find her in another area of the tent, so he raised his voice slightly, "they're nice. I mean, they didn't even know us and they were so open to helping." She glanced over at him and he continued, "It would have been nice to, you know, actually meet them... in different circumstances..."

Hermione tilted her head, "Oh, as in 'Mum, Dad, this is my  _boyfriend_ , Draco' _?_ "

Draco peeked up at her, "I don't know, maybe." He went back to packing up some cauldrons, clearing his throat and speaking just enough for her to hear, "Would you have wanted to do that?"

Hermione walked over to Draco and placed her hands on the cauldron he was holding to put it down, then gaze into his eyes. "Yes, I would have liked for them to meet you under  _those_  circumstances."

She slid her fingers through his hair and kissed him.

Draco liked to imagine that this could be a reality, though  _his_  family would never make it that easy and did not even want to give her a chance to bring it up. "Alright, Granger, I'm going to shower and get settled to sleep, I think we'll need it tonight. Try not to fantasize about me again."

Hermione shook her head at his teasing, wanting to banter back, but her solemn mood still remained from visiting her parents. She knew there was a chance it might be the last she ever saw of them.

As Draco left, Hermione opted to find solace in a book, pulling one at random from the little bookshelf near the stove and flipping through pages. She needed something she recognized amidst all this change to center herself. Soon enough, her eyes refused to stay open any longer and she dozed off to sleep in the comfort of words.

Draco noticed her sleeping after he got dressed, and picked her up to lay her in her bed. She mumbled something as he lay her down but nothing more as she turned to her side. He managed to take off her shoes and socks but thought that would be enough for her to rest comfortably.

Opting to lay down next to her, he covered them both with a blanket. Though anxious for what was to come the next day, he found comfort that Hermione was going to be with him the whole time, and soon fell asleep as well.

. . .

Draco awoke first, his throat tightening as he remembered that they were to leave today. What if the Order rejected him and he had to go into hiding alone? He looked to Hermione and brushed away some strands of her messy hair, then leaned to kiss her cheek.

As she stirred, he gazed at her, wondering if they would ever be in this position again. Finding Potter and Weasley meant that Hermione would probably keep their affections private. To go back to being what everyone saw him as before. The feeling suffocated him.

He moved closer to her and held her tight, taking her in, as if for the last time.

Slowly blinking into awareness, Hermione placed her arms on top of his. She, unlike him, was excited to find her friends, but she also understood his apprehension. She could see it in his eyes. "I'm not going to leave your side, Draco... I don't care what anyone says or does."

Draco remained quiet, keeping his hold. He thought about how transparent he had become to her.

Hermione turned to him, "I have mixed feelings about leaving, too."

Draco nodded and kissed her. He would rather not live with this anxiety just to feel it again later so he reluctantly broke their kiss to whisper, "We'd better get going." He hopped out of bed and walked over to his bag to get dressed, calling over his shoulder, "I'll make breakfast!"

Hermione smiled as she watched him get dressed and then head to the kitchen, "Don't burn down our tent!"

Draco paused as he stood over the stove, staring at the ignition switch. Her words made his heart leap: ' _our'_.

After Hermione finished getting dressed, she made a mental note about the medallions, opting to keep them safe in her music box until they both had a chance to safely take them out.

She went to the table to nervously wait for Draco to finish cooking. When he was done, he brought it to the table. She studied the plate he served and complimented, "This looks good, Malfoy, you're a quick learner!"

He nodded, but she could tell he was trying not to show his uncertainty for the day when there was no forthcoming sassy response. She pretended not to notice.

To act as a distraction, she pulled out her little box, "Here, I'm going to open the music box. You reach for your medallion and then I'll take mine."

Draco reached in to grab something invisible. His hands grasping an object within, he slowly took it out and placed it around his neck, which allowed him to see it again. Hermione then did the same with hers.

"Okay, after we finish here, we're ready to go."

They finished breakfast in silence, put some last-minute items away and stepped out of the tent. They both stared at it for a moment, then glanced over at each other. With a nod, Hermione turned to cast a spell on the tent. It collapsed, then with a  _swoosh,_ it disappeared into her purse.

The area felt strange and the land looked lonely as they took one last look around the rolling, green hills. A gust of wind brought them back to the task at hand. Draco opened his bag to  _Accio_  their portkeys. Three toothbrushes covered in a thin plastic popped out. Each toothbrush was a different color, with a number label engraved into the handle.

He held them out to her, "So, why toothbrushes?"

Hermione looked down at them, "My parents are dentists."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. He tried to imagine the people he had just met making toothbrushes, though he was not sure if that was all that was involved in dentistry.

Hermione took the portkeys, holding them out, "We really don't know which to use first, so we might as well start with 'one'."

Draco shrugged; he had no idea what these safe houses looked like and relied on Hermione to choose correctly. She reserved information whenever they spoke of plans, only ever explaining that it could harm them if he knew any more. They prepared for the worst, one scenario being that the Dark Lord would catch him helping the Order. The less he knew, the better, at least for now.

Hermione stowed the other two toothbrushes back into her bag, placed the first on the ground, and used her wand to unwrap it.

She glanced over at Draco, "Ready?"

He nodded. Grasping each other's hand, with the other they simultaneously reached down to touch the toothbrush.

In a strong spinning motion they faded away from their current location. As the momentum spun them quickly, Hermione began to lose control. She had only done this a couple of times. Luckily Draco leveled them out and landed them safely onto the ground.

It was completely dark and Hermione could only make out the shape of a dark frame of a house a short distance in front of them. She turned at the sound of waves behind her, guessing they were close to a beach front. There was a bitingly cold wind and Draco nearly cast a warming spell, but Hermione stopped him by vigorously shaking her head.

Draco nodded in agreement, they took a chance on using a portkey already, knowing that adding more magic could attract Snatchers. Draco gripped her hand tight, " _Where_  did you say these safe houses were?"

"I didn't." Hermione hesitated, remembering that telling Draco details could be dangerous, "Could be Wales."

Such a long journey by any method was not a great idea; Draco figured that was probably why his stomach was feeling a bit queasy. He wondered if Hermione did not know about the side-effects of travelling over long distances, or if she chose to ignore it.

The dark house was secluded, with no other houses in sight. They advanced with wands in hand and as they got closer, they tried peeked through the old windows. All was quiet.

Hermione approached the front door and rapped out the special knocking rhythm the Order had trained her to use when approaching a safe house. When there was no answer, Draco began to reach for the door, but Hermione had to stop him again.

"If it's charmed, I think if you touched it-" She paused.

Draco stepped back, nodding. She looked at him sympathetically and was about to speak again when he interrupted, "Granger, it's fine. Go ahead."

Hermione turned back toward the door, twisting the handle in hope that the safe house charms would recognize her. Besides having to give the door a good shove, it opened. As soon as she could, she cast, " _Homenum Revelio._ "

Still nothing. She turned to Draco, who shrugged. He really had not known what to expect in the first place.

Hermione exhaled. "Okay, next safe house."

As she reached into her bag to fetch the second toothbrush, Draco pulled on her sweater, whispering, "Don't you want to wait a bit?"

She shook her head, "We stick to the plan, come on. If someone was here, they would have left a message on the table."

Draco went closer to inspected the old wooden kitchen table as best he could in the dark. When he found it empty, he sighed and pulled out a quill and parchment from his bag, handing it over to Hermione.

She leaned down to scribble, 'HG2'. Draco watched over her, curious on what it meant, though he guessed at her initials.

"There, now we just need to find a spoon and they'll know it was me and we can be off to the next safehouse."

Draco moved to search the kitchen drawers, looking for the requested spoon. Instead he found a fork and offered it, but she shook her head urgently. "No, it can't be a fork. That sends a  _totally_ different message."

Eventually Hermione found a spoon and placed it over the note on the center of the table. She nodded to Draco, "Okay, on to safe house number two."

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out another toothbrush, again using her wand to carefully unwrap it. They glanced at one another to get the timing right before both grabbing the portkey to warp to their next location. This time when they landed, despite that it was still night, the sky seemed lighter. There was hazy rain surrounding them, making a porch light to a house in front of them look as if it had a soft halo. Hermione scanned the area, and again there were no other houses nearby that she could see.

Unlike the last house, this one looked as if it was occupied, judging by the light glowing from the inside. The window was glistening with drops of rain, so they were unable to see much.

Hermione whispered, "Looks like someone is home."

Draco agreed and they slowly approached the front of the house.

Hermione knocked on the door in the same unique knocking pattern from before.

Draco stood close to her as they waited for any type of response, his hand ready to grab his wand. They could hear footsteps approaching the door from inside. His heart thumped, curious on who could be in there... was it someone he would know? Was it even someone from the Order?

Hermione stood on the edge of the small steps just below the door, waiting. She knew there would be a question, to prove she was who she claimed to be. Then she heard a muffled voice, but it was difficult to understand. She glanced down at Draco who was on the ground below the steps, he shrugged.

Impatiently she raised her voice, "I'm sorry, I can't hear you, can you repeat?"

She turned to Draco, whispering, "Must be a  _Muffliato_  charm." Draco became concerned, as the person behind the door seemed to be struggling still and he was certain he could make out some curse words. He grabbed Hermione's arm to pull her back just in case, but then the voice was suddenly clear from the other side of the door.

"-left nut! Sorry 'bout that."

Hermione's head rose immediately recognizing the voice, and she nearly wanted to shout, but remained calmed as to follow protocol. Still waiting she cleared her throat to remind the person of their position.

"Oh, right, okay. " The person exhaled as if preparing, then spoke, "Four beetles were plucked from a cave; one stood, so easily brave..."

Hermione was relieved that the person had used this one, though maybe Draco would not agree with it. She quickly responded, "The second, held the third who had notions, the fourth crushed for magical potions."

Draco watched her as she nearly bounced in excitement, while he analyzed the so-called password she responded to. He tried his best to connect the voice behind the door, it was on the tip of his tongue, and she obviously knew.

The locked clicked and clanged, and the door creaked open quickly. A short moment later, Hermione recognized the copper hair and lanky frame of Ron Weasley.

Ron's face widened with a smile, and he exclaimed, "HERMIONE!"

Hermione's heart leapt. Nearly fumbling over the step up into the door, she quickly passed the threshold and embraced him without hesitation.

Then, Ron loosened his grasp on her to quickly pull her behind him for protection, demanding, "MALFOY!?"

_________________________________________

***100 points to the house that makes the connection to the beetle rhyme used for the safe house***

Not to be confused with this thanks to my beta:   
Spider, spider, how does your cobweb grow? With bowfly wings and beetle spleens, and the HeartofAspen in tow. 


	21. Pariah

Ron glared at Draco, who was still standing on the doorstep outside in the haze of rain. He held Hermione behind him as he reached for his wand, but Draco was quicker.

"I'm not here to kill you, Weasley, else you'd be dead by now."

Ron froze with a scowl on his face at the threat of Malfoy's wand pointing at him.

Hermione was taken aback, having expected to find some of the older Order members here, rather than Ron. She quickly scrambled to pull in front of him, explaining, "Ron, he's a defector. He saved me from the manor when I was hurt."

Ron glared over Hermione's shoulder down toward Draco in disbelief. Just then, Harry came thumping down a stairway and rushed to the door, "Hermione?"

"HARRY!"

Hermione pushed past Ron to embrace Harry, elated to have found them both alive. "We've been looking for you, but we didn't know what happened to you! Are you both okay?"

Harry began, "Yes, luckily we  _were_ , wait... did you say  _we?_  Are there others?"

Harry looked up to Ron, and noticed his attention was elsewhere outside. Looking further, he finally noticed the blond hair peeking just past Ron's shoulder.

"Hermione! What's  _he_  doing here?!"

Impatiently, Draco crossed his arms, his hair becoming more damp from the rain. Hermione turned away from Harry, making her way back to the entrance where the two brooding boys stood at an impasse.

She pulled on Ron's shoulder in an attempt to stop him from blocking the doorway, where he prevented Draco coming inside.

"I know this may be unbelievable, but Draco is a defector. Bellatrix was-" She glanced back at Draco and then toward Harry and Ron again, "He saved me."

Hermione could tell that Ron was not going to be easily swayed. Harry looked to Ron for his reaction, then to Hermione, before finally landing suspiciously on Draco, " _You_? Why would  _you_  do that?"

Draco glanced toward Hermione, then down at the step where he stood. Thinking it would be wise to avoid too many details until Hermione could explain further, he only answered, "I didn't want to be part of it anymore."

Hermione turned to Ron to see if he would release his stance, but instead he stood strong as if Draco's answer was not enough. She placed her hand on his arm, "Please, Ron, let him in. We'll explain more. There are no tricks here."

Hesitantly, Ron moved aside to allow him through, never letting Draco leave his sight. Hermione headed inside straight away, as Draco took a wary step up to the threshold.

As he rose higher into the warmth of the house, Ron took a confrontational step closer to him. Draco faced him with a bored expression, purposely colliding their shoulders as he shoved past him and into the house. He could feel Potter's eyes on him as he sauntered into the wide living room and approached a long table near the warmth of the fireplace. Scanning the room, he noted that there was a small kitchen at one end of the open space and a door that looked like it led into another room on the opposite side. A small staircase presumably led to a second floor. He could only assume there was no extension charm here and that the small wooden cottage was as large as he could see.

Ron looked over to Harry, " _You_  seem calm. You're okay, now that  _Draco Malfoy_  just slithered into our  _safe house_ , are you?"

Harry glared over at Draco, knowing that he was listening. "Well, he's a coward, and cowards like to run. So, no, I'm not surprised, Ron."

Draco turned, gripping his wand. Noticing trouble brewing, Hermione made sure to stand between them, though it did not stop Draco from challenging, "You think you understand, don't you, Potter?"

"Yeah, more than  _most,_ Malfoy! You-Know-Who isn't so confident these days, is he? Getting more manic than before, right?"

Draco tilted his chin up as his nose flared. How could Potter possibly know that without having direct contact? Then he noticed Harry looking at his arm, so he shifted his body, but it was not enough, he could tell it was already a developed thought in Potter's mind.

Harry leaned toward Ron to whisper, "What'd I tell you? He's been marked."

Ron looked over to her, "He's a Death Eater, isn't he, Hermione?"

She peeked over to Draco and exhaled, "Ron... Harry-" though before she could finish they had stepped backward and she caught the fear in their eyes. Noticing they were looking behind her, at Draco, she turned to find he was rolling up his sleeve.

"I knew it!" Harry seethed, raising his wand to point it at him.

Hermione stepped in front of Draco to block him, "Harry, he did get the mark, yes, but- he's defected. Why would he show you otherwise?"

Ron spouted, "Because he's about to call You-Know-Who with it! Harry, hex him!"

Seemingly apathetic, Draco rolled his sleeve back down. "I'm not calling  _him,_  you twits, I could have done that the moment I saw the freckled fuck at the door."

Ron grimaced and stepped forward but Hermione took another step to continue blocking his way. With strain in her voice, she mediated, "Look, he's not doing anything of the sort. Harry, put your wand down, please."

Ron seemed defiant and she had to place her hands on his chest to hold him back. Though she knew it was an empty threat since they should not be using magic, let alone hexing each other, she snapped, "Ronald Weasley, I can just as well put a spell on you, but I'd rather not. Please..."

Draco peeked up, hardly worried about a wand threatening him, instead his eyes were rooted to the place where her hands pressed against Weasley's chest. Dark thoughts quickly plagued his mind. He wished she would just hex them both and they could move on from here, especially if this was going to take all night.

Ron seemed to have eased off a bit so she dropped her hands, looking to Harry, eager to change the subject, "Harry, you said You-Know-Who was manic? Did you see something? You know, visions?"

Harry broke his glare on Draco and hesitantly lowered his wand. He sighed before speaking more softly, perhaps for Draco not to hear, "Nothing since I last saw you, but I can sense it. He's frantic, he might know-"

Ron abruptly grabbed Harry's arm, "Don't say too much, Harry, not while that ferret is listening in. It's probably his plan-"

Hermione cut him off, "Ron, I promise you, he has  _defected_."

Ron shot her a twisted look of confusion, until Harry unexpectedly added, "I think she's right, Ron."

Ron let go of Harry's arm in shock, "Harry, you can't be serious-"

"I believe Hermione," Harry insisted firmly. "Look, last time I saw Malfoy, he wasn't handling it all too well-"

"Neither have you, mate, and you haven't tried to murder anyone!"

Exasperated, Hermione moved closer to Ron, "Please, Ron..."

"Are you both off your brooms? Have you been cursed? This is  _Malfoy,_  he's a-"

Harry cut him off, "He's a Black."

Now both Hermione and Ron were looking at him in confusion.

Draco peeked up to listen into whatever Potter was going on about, interested in why he had so easily switched, choosing not to hex him anymore. It made him wonder what Potter had gone through to be so quick to forgive, unless it was all an act to trick him.

Harry crossed his arms, "Sirius, Andromeda, Regulus..."

Ron was quick to add, "Bellatrix, Narcissa, and oh yeah, he's also a Malfoy!"

Hermione chimed in, "Ron, isn't a relative of yours a Black?"

He huffed, "That is completely off the point..."

Crossing her arms and mirroring Harry, Hermione contradicted, "I think Harry is making a perfectly good point here."

Harry placed both of his hands on Ron's shoulders, his head nearly touching Ron's, "Look, mate, enough of the Blacks abandoned their families, why is it so hard for you to accept that Malfoy might have, too."

Ron grabbed Harry's hands and tossed them away from his shoulders, "Because, he's a total prat! He'll do anything  _they_ say!"

While he waited for their spat to resolve itself, Draco had leaned against the table with his legs crossed, completely ready to hex Weasley if he tried something. He was relieved that at least Potter had the sense to give him a chance. As he reflected on his mother's family, the Blacks, it somehow gave him comfort that they were an odd mix of Bott's Beans.

"Ronald, don't make me bring up Percy..."

Harry looked up at her in shock, and Ron looked offended. "Don't, Hermione-" He looked over to Draco, who perked up inquisitively. Then he grit through his teeth, "Fine, but don't think I won't keeping an eye on him-"

Satisfied enough for the time being, Hermione changed the subject, "Harry, tell me everything. How did you get out of the manor?"

She took a seat at the table and began making herself comfortable; Draco was impressed by how she had controlled the scenario, and followed her over to sit.

Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione and then to Draco again. Harry moved to the table cautiously, sitting beside Hermione, while Ron followed, deliberately choosing a seat away from Draco, which was at the farthest end from everyone.

Hermione glanced quickly at Draco. He appeared distant and closed off, though she was not at all surprised by his defiance. She tried to remember it was not toward her, that he was still the wizard from the tent, rather than the boy from Hogwarts.

Harry began to speak, combing his hand through his messy dark hair, unconsciously exposing his scar, "Well, the last time we saw you, you were... you know, being tortured..."

He glanced at Draco, who seemed to be concentrating on the table top. Ron kept a stern stare, his nose pinched and his hand tightly gripping his wand. The silence felt like forever, possibly because they were all imagining the scene and who was to blame for it.

Harry continued, "We were in some cellar..."

Draco interrupted, "Dungeon."

They all paused to look at him. Draco glanced up, shrugged, then looked away again.

Harry cleared his throat and continued, "Luna was there-" Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, then after a while, Dobby showed up and let us out." He looked down and began to scratch his nail into little knots of wood in the table. "He got us out, but... Bellatrix threw a knife and..."

Ron glanced at Harry before concluding for him, "We buried him properly."

Hermione looked sympathetically at her friend, appreciating that they gave him a decent burial. Dobby had been the one elf, that she knew of, that appreciated being free, and now he was gone. She reached over to grab Harry's hand, "I'm sorry, Harry... I'm so sorry."

Draco peeked up, staring at where Hermione's hand was connected with Potter's, and trying to keep his head down. He could not help but become jealous, not because it was Potter, but on how effortless this action was for her.  _Who else does she so easily touch?_

Trying to keep his mind on topic, Draco reflected on his old house elf. He had known Dobby well enough, and even though his father had seen him as an insufferable elf, he had not minded him too much.

Draco broke the silence, "That's how  _we_ got out. Dobby took me to the edge of the grounds."

Hermione glanced at Draco, his comment spurring a question she had been thinking about, "Harry, how did Dobby know to find you at the manor?"

He pulled a small, broken piece of mirror from his pocket, "I looked through this, we called for help, but no one came. Then awhile later, Dobby appeared, so I figured... but-"

A crackling pop from the fireplace was the only sound while Harry looked at Ron as if to confirm something they had discussed already. "But, I really don't know if it was from the glass or... if Dobby had help from someone in the manor, you know, to find us in the cellar." He glanced up at Malfoy, "-er, dungeon."

Draco suddenly became interested in what Potter might be leading up to. He knew his mother had called on Dobby for him to escape, but would she have done the same for Potter and Weasley?

Hermione could tell that Harry was hesitant to reveal who it was, "Harry,  _who_  helped Dobby find you?"

Lowly, Harry admitted, "When Dobby arrived, he said his old mistress told him where to find us."

Draco and Hermione glanced at one another and he did his best not to look too proud, suspecting his clever Gryffindor had already expected this answer. Asking Potter about Dobby's rescue openly provided truth to corroborate Draco's story as a defector, and maybe his mother, too.

Ron followed Hermione's eyes to Draco, "Look, you self-righteous prat, she's still hosting a mass murderer in her home, isn't she?"

Draco's face stiffened, forming a scowl as his eyes shifted back at Ron.

Hermione sighed, "Please, Ron, I know this is difficult, but we need to pull together as a team. Did you find any other horcruxes or locations? Have you been _here_  this whole time?"

Harry bowed his head in shame while Ron appeared annoyed that she had mentioned it out loud.

Harry replied, "We were at the first safe house for a little while. That's where we buried Dobby. From there, Luna went to find her father, so we decided to move to the next house in search of you." Harry paused, "Hermione, we need your help."

Draco gave a short snort. "Well, isn't that the biggest understatement of the year," he mumbled to himself.

Ron furiously snapped back, "What do you know about it, Malfoy? Why don't you just fuck off to your mummy and your new dark lord daddy!"

Abruptly, Draco stood up from his chair, causing it to scrape loudly across the hardwood floor. Ron matched his move and suddenly, their wands were at each other's throats.

Draco growled through his teeth, "I told you, I  _defected_! Get it through your thick, ginger skull, Weasley! My mum fucking saved your arses! She'll probably die for  _that_. There's no  _wonder_  you haven't made any progress..."

Hermione quickly stood up, losing her patience, "Boys! Put your wands down. This is getting us nowhere!"

They both shifted their eyes to Hermione then back at each other, still not budging, wands steady on.

It looked as if Harry was about to stand as well until Hermione exhaled, "Draco..."

Draco's nose flared, eyes flickering over to where she stood, his stare on Weasley wavering. Without another word, he wandlessly summoned his chair back into place and sat, leaning back, arms crossed, with his nose proudly in the air.

Ron stood there, staring in confusion as he slowly lowered his wand. He made eye contact with Harry, and the two shared a confused look before Ron slowly sat down. Hermione knew that it was one thing to have them believe that Draco had defected, but it was another thing entirely for them to witness him taking direction from her. There was an awkward silence, with only the sound of Ron's rickety wooden chair creaking as he settled again.

Harry studied Hermione for a moment before turning his attention over to Draco again. Ron winced at Harry before sharing a knowing look with him.

Harry cleared his throat, "Hermione, where did you two go? You know, when Malfoy... saved you?"

Hermione hesitated, "I was hurt, and Draco took me somewhere safe." She looked over at him, finding that he was preoccupying himself by twirling his wand between his fingers as she continued, "Bellatrix- she put unique curses on me that lasted... a while. My legs weren't well. Draco is an accomplished potioneer, and brewed something that mended me."

Harry glanced sharply over to where Draco was still pretending to ignore them, "You took something he made?"

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, "I'm not cursed, Harry, it really did help."

Ron refused to look at Draco now, keeping his stare down at the table. Harry relaxed, though he still looked skeptical, "Okay... so, you were in a safe place?"

Hermione only nodded. She and Draco had agreed to keep the location a secret as a part of their plan, in case Legilimency was used. There was no sense in ruining another safe location, or its connection to her parents. She also understood that it was a private location for him, and wanted to respect that, so she changed the subject, "Harry, we were just at the first safe house, and no one was there. There wasn't a note either."

Harry looked at Hermione, confused, "We wrote a note, did you miss it? It was on the table with a spoon, as instructed by the Order, all encoded and everything."

"Harry, there wasn't a note. Do you think someone read it and got rid of it? Maybe someone else was at the safe house, and left without a note?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know, we've been at this house for over a week, at least."

He looked over to Ron, who nodded in agreement.

Draco looked up at Hermione, recognizing her thinking process and curious what she might be implying.

Harry lowered his voice, leaning in close to Hermione, "Can we speak to you, alone?"

Draco caught Harry's look, making it obvious that they meant to exclude him. Hermione tilted her head toward Draco as if begging him to cooperate. Draco glanced at her and rolled his eyes, but stood up to walk away.

Although he appeared annoyed, internally he was relieved to step into the quiet room at the other end of the long space. It looked to be some sort of den, as he noticed leftover items from someone's previous life. He plopped himself down in an old swivel chair, which only reminded him of how loopy he felt from all their portkey travel. The chair creaked as he leaned back, to prop his feet up on the desk in front of him. It was nice to be still for a moment, to collect his thoughts, despite that he was distracted by the low, quick whispers coming from the room he had just left. He closed his eyes and simply tried to rest.

As soon as Draco was out of sight, Ron quickly moved closer and leaned in to hiss, "Hermione, how can you  _trust_  him? He is a  _Death Eater!"_

"Ron, he  _saved_ me. I've been in a safe place with him for over three weeks, we- we've gotten to know each other a lot better, and he's... changed."

Ron looked disgusted, "I find that hard to believe."

Rounding on her other friend, Hermione pressed, "Harry,  _you_  must believe me if Ron won't. I didn't trust him at first either, but he took Veritaserum and I know a lot about him now. All his answers revealed that he is not the enemy. He really did defect and... we predicted this would be difficult for you or anyone to accept, so he already agreed to take more truth serum if you had more questions."

Harry and Ron both looked at one another with their eyebrows raised. Harry was pleased for only a moment until he remembered, "Hermione, we don't have any Veritaserum and even if we did have ingredients, that could take nearly a month-"

Hermione interrupted, "We already thought of that. I brewed some the first moment I could and it's nearly ready. Draco brought potion supplies with him."

She smiled to herself,  _More than just supplies, a whole potions lab more like it_.

Ron became agitated, "Please stop saying  _we_  like the two of you are best friends now, or something."

Hermione swallowed hard, trying to keep her eyes on the table to avoid revealing anything, but it clearly did not work.

Ron looked at her in dismay, "You're  _friends_  with him? You're  _bloody_  kidding me, Hermione! He was an absolute prick to you at school and now-? He's conning you. What was in the potion he gave you to make you 'better'?"

Hermione became annoyed that he continued like this, "Ronald Weasley, who do you think I am? Some innocent lamb ready for slaughter? If you trust  _me,_  and I say you can trust  _him_ , you  _should_! I told you, he would take the serum and if  _you_  still can't get over it, then  _we_ will move on without  _you_!"

Feeling Ron's stare, she could tell he was hurt. She had only just found her friends again and now she was snapping at them. Regret began to take hold of her. Upon reflection, her response had come off as if she were disregarding all their years of friendship. Her head fell into her hands, disappointed in herself, thinking that she never felt _this_  guilty shouting at Draco.

From the den, Draco could hear her shouting at Ron and grinned proudly,  _I wonder if she throws things at them, too..._

Putting his hand on Ron's shoulder to calm him, Harry then faced her, "Hermione, we were worried about you, that's all. If you say to trust Malfoy, we'll do our best, but it won't happen that quickly. Whether you like it or not, we  _will_  be keeping an eye on him."

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. She had not expected to get so riled up defending Draco, but she wanted Harry and Ron to move on so they could get back to the Order.

"Thank you, Harry. I know. I don't really expect anyone to just roll over and be friends here. I just want to win this war."

Harry gave a nod of understanding, but Ron seemed distant. In a new calm manner Hermione changed the subject, "So, what leads do we have toward finding the next horcrux?"

"Well, Ron and I have a suspicion, but it could be a long shot. Bellatrix seemed so defensive about the Sword of Gryffindor being taken from her vault at Gringotts."

Hermione nodded, shuddering as her memories flashed back to that night, "You think she's hiding something else?"

Harry bobbed his head while Ron gave a sort of tilt, and she continued, "Okay, well, how could we get in there?"

While Harry bit his lip to think, Hermione peeked over at Ron. He appeared to be distracted and was picking at his already-ragged fingernails. She decided that maybe they could come back to the topic later.

Leaning back in her chair, she went on, "Okay, well, we'll have to think of something. How are the supplies here?"

Harry and Hermione both stood up to make their way into the kitchen, while Ron sulked behind. Her eyes scanned the shelves, taking note of the scant amounts of canned food and random ingredients. She knew the boys were clueless on this level of Muggle cooking, especially when they were also trying to avoid using magic.

"Supplies are low," Harry observed. "Even when I used to make meals for Aunt Petunia, it wasn't from anything in the cupboards here."

She assessed, "I think I can manage with these supplies."

Harry hugged Hermione, "We are  _nothing_  without you, Hermione. We thought we lost you... I'm so glad you're safe."

She tightened her hold on Harry and smiled over his shoulder, "I know it's hard to accept but, I'm safe  _because_  of  _him_."

She glanced to Ron who was leaning against the pantry doorway, shaking his head. Harry let go and noticed Ron's defiant attitude, "Hermione, it's just history. I know people can change but  _Malfoy_  - that's a big leap for us. The things he did-"

Hermione cut him off, "Ron, can I talk to you? Privately?"

Ron quickly looked up at her before glancing over to Harry, as if to confirm that he was in some sort of trouble.

She walked up to Ron and paused, as if to ask where they could speak alone. He nodded to the stairway and they made their way to the second floor. The room he guided her into must have been his, having his scent, one she used to love. Now it reminded her of rejection, and of a scratchy friendship that they hardly had time to mend.

She noticed a homemade sweater hanging off the edge of the bed. For a moment, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia, missing Mrs. Weasley, and wishing she was here to guide them.

Ron plopped himself down on the edge of the bed, but Hermione remained standing.

"Ron, I just thought we could talk about us."

Ron peeked up at her and nodded.

"I know things have been a bit rocky between us for awhile..." she pressed on, "but I need you to focus now. We need to end this war."

"Hermione, we-" he stumbled, then corrected, "I missed you. You were being tortured, and then you were gone and- I felt we abandoned you and... it tore me up."

"I'm sorry, Ron. I know, this war is testing us all. Have you heard from any of your family?"

He shook his head in disappointment.

"Well, we need to get ourselves together so we can end this... and, Draco is willing to help."

Ron dropped his head, frustrated "How can  _he_ help  _us_? We were doing _fine_  without him."

"No, we weren't. We got lucky and then we were wandering, and then running- and we got caught! And now we're  _stalled_."

"Hermione, what do you think he's going to do?"

"He has seen the other side. We can utilize that information for any number of situations we may find ourselves in."

Ron continued to shake his head, "No, no... no way. We can move on and he can stay in the safe house. That is a kindness I'm willing to accept. If he's around us... he'll-"

"Ron, we _need_  him. Think of him as a secret weapon."

Ron stood up quickly, pushing the bed slightly back as he did, "Yeah, a weapon  _against us!_  Don't you see it, Hermione? He's a Slytherin snake! He's probably been told to find us and then give us up! We shouldn't even have him around  _Harry!"_

" _Ronald_ , I've just told you I used Veritaserum on him and that I've spent about nearly a month with him. He  _can_  be trusted!"

"Even if I see him under Veritaserum, I bet You-Know-Who has some way of... I dunno, I'm sure there's some way that he isn't on  _our_ side!"

Hermione was annoyed. Having seen Ron angry and illogical before, she recognized that it was a good time to end the conversation. Turning away from him, she crossed her arms, "If you don't go with us, we'll go without you."

"Oh, you think Harry would just choose Malfoy over his best mate?" he demanded hotly.

She turned back to him, her hair whipping around as she scowled, her voice having become shrill and raspy, "No, I think Harry will see  _reason_ , unlike you! Harry  _trusts_  me, also his  _best mate_. So, why don't  _you_?"

Ron closed his eyes and exhaled, "Hermione... I  _do_  trust you, I just don't trust  _Malfoy_ , and honestly, I still don't understand why  _you_  trust him! He's a fucking prick! What  _reason_  would he have to save you, except to find Harry and take him to You-Know-Who?"

Hermione had the answer on the tip of her tongue but knew the truth would only rile Ron up even more.

"Look, Ron, please just give it some time. You and Harry can think up some questions to ask him for the serum and see how you feel after, okay?"

Ron shook his head and reached for Hermione's hand, "Hermione, I- "

Yanking her hand away from his, she insisted, "There isn't any more I'd like to discuss."

"Hermione, are you going to ignore this? Are you going to ignore...  _us_?"

She looked away to think, "Ron, you  _had_ a chance and... I think we are better off as friends."

Ron's face softened and he tried to make eye contact, "You haven't forgiven me. I know, I'm sorry. I'm stupid and I regret so much-"

Nostrils flaring, Hermione interrupted, "I just want to focus on the mission."

His entire body sagged at her words and he reluctantly gave up trying to sway her. There was a long silence, which eventually became an unspoken agreement that there was nothing else to be said.

Hermione shifted her weight and let her arms fall to her sides, "Okay, well, I'd like to get going on this. Write a list of things to ask Draco. I will go check on the Veritaserum... okay?"

She took his continued silence as an agreement and turned to leave.

As she reached the end of the stairs, she paused, holding on to the banister for balance as she took a few steadying breaths. Glancing up, she saw Harry seated at the table, sipping at what she guessed was tea. He caught her eye and appeared apprehensive, so she assumed the walls were thin enough that he had heard everything.

Setting his mug down, he queried, "You okay?"

Silently nodding, she made her way over to him and stood behind one of the chairs opposite him, tapping her fingers on the top of it. "I think I'm going to add some more enchantments to this place. You know, so we can do some casting in here without being noticed."

"Okay," he agreed, picking his mug back up and sipping his tea again.

She knew they should still limit their spell use, but that was just a precaution. As she stood at the table musing over which spells would be best, it reminded her of the tent. Part of her wished she was back there with Draco. Everything with him was still so new and now, with her having to pretend in front of the boys, it felt as if it was gone already. Deep in thought, she pulled out her wand out and began to trace the raised vines that ran across it. How could she ever explain to them everything that happened there, in that bubble of time alone with him? She glanced over to the den where Draco still was. Maybe she had not given Harry and Ron enough credit to understand.

 _No,_  she scolded herself,  _not now, they can't know just yet._

Harry broke her thought process, "I think he loves you."

Hermione nearly dropped her wand, her heart racing. As if someone had just punched her in the gut, she puffed out, "What?"

______________________

. . .thanks for keeping up with this story and now  for this PSA;

 

Warning:

Please, do not feed the aspen trees. No chocolate milk or oka cheese.

No liquid luck, or homemade pi, for they've been known, to multiply.

They'll take the woods, in dance or stride, over mountains, and ocean tides.

No fairy dust, nor breath of men, could ever reclaim,

the HeartOfAspen.


	22. Possession

Hermione froze, staring at Harry for the comment. How could he know if Draco was in love with her? Was it from his behavior? Or hers? What had given it away? She nearly argued back, but was saved a lot of explaining when Harry continued, "When we left the manor without you, Ron- he spiraled into despair."

Closing her eyes, relief flooded her,  _He meant Ron_. She took a deep breath, and tried to act naturally when she responded, "I'm sorry, Harry, he had his chance and I just don't feel the same way now."

She approached the table where she had left her bag, retrieving the serum, holding it up toward the fire light to observe the brewing process.

"It's not ready, but it's nearly there. Maybe tomorrow... I told Ron that you two should write up some questions to ask Draco. He's willing to answer enough for about 30 minutes of serum. Will that be sufficient for you?"

Hermione sensed by Harry's passive nodding, he was wary not to argue, which he did so often when they were in school, especially after a row with Ron, or anyone for that matter.

"Are there other rooms? Somewhere for me and Draco to sleep?"

Hermione could tell that it irked Harry to hear her calling him 'Draco', and for a second, she contemplated how she had worded the request. It almost sounded as if they would be sleeping  _together_. She had to be more careful.

"There's one more room upstairs. Maybe Malfoy wouldn't mind the couch in the den."

She nodded in approval, understanding why he would suggest that Draco should take the farthest room away from them to stay in.

Placing the vial of serum down on the table, Hermione strayed over toward the kitchen, "If you haven't eaten, I can make something. It's late here, but we're off schedule. We were in a different time zone."

Harry perked up, pleading, "Hermione, please make  _something_. We've been eating out of cans for the last few days."

They both smiled. It was refreshing to be with Harry. There was a clean and uncomplicated friendship there and she appreciated it.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

She walked over to the den to find Draco lounging on the couch, hands behind his head, "Oh good, you've made yourself comfortable.  _That's_  your bed."

He peeked up at her, "Yes, I figured I'd be shunned away from Gryffindor Tower. The lower level suits me."

Hermione smiled softly, "I told Harry and Ron to think up some questions to ask you. The serum should hopefully be done tomorrow."

Draco studied her. She was different now, focused and on her game. As her leadership persona beamed through, he wondered if the affectionate Hermione from the tent would be gone from here on out. There was a hint of distance between them now, as if they were never lovers, only soldiers.

"I'm going to cook something. No one seems to know how to use the ingredients in the pantry. Will you come out to eat with us?"

Draco exhaled, "If that is what  _you_  want."

Hermione only raised her eyebrows in response, he was clever enough to know that she wanted them to get along, or at least try. She then turned to walk back to the kitchen, trying to think of something she could make with what was available. She found enough items to make bread from scratch, though it would have to make-do without a rising agent. That, coupled with other limitations, made her decide to make flatbread and rice, along with whatever type of canned items she could mix together. When she had a moment's break, she went outside to add more enchantments over the safehouse, figuring that if they needed to, they could cast a few spells now, though nothing was going to make dinner taste any better.

Draco had been watching from the den, not willing to join Harry at the table until he absolutely had to. After about an hour of cooking, Hermione asked Harry to retrieve Ron, and Draco found his moment to approach her.

"What's on the menu for tonight, chef?"

She turned to him, shrewdly thinking that he would probably only be this pleasant when the boys were not around.

"Well, it's sort-of tacos with a flatbread. There wasn't much else."

"I'm sure it'll be more than satisfactory. I have some items left in my bag from our little tent adventure, but mostly crisps."

"Oh, save those in case we get stuck somewhere without food at all."

He nodded and took a step back from her when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Draco took some items from the kitchen, brought them to the table and stayed there.

Ron paused and watched as Harry and Hermione followed Draco over. She sat next to Draco, while Harry sat across. Frustrated, Ron took a spot at the end of the table as he had before.

Harry attempted to lighten the mood, "This is brilliant, Hermione."

Ron followed, trying his best to be chipper, "Yes, this is great. You've always been good at cooking."

Harry followed up, "Except when you attempted to teach  _us_. We nearly burned down Mrs. Weasley's kitchen."

Draco glanced up at Hermione, immediately feeling less special knowing that she had also taught Potter and Weasley to cook, along with whoever else might be included in that personal story.

Hermione smiled, "Yes, although she seemed to have forgiven me and Ginny, perhaps not Ron."

Ron smiled faintly, "No, she always assumes I'm at fault."

Harry retorted, "Rightfully so."

Ron tossed a piece of food at him and Harry grinned back.

Draco focused on his plate, acting indifferent to their personal stories. He knew Hermione was close with Ron, but he did not know the extent of it. Apparently, she had been in his home, cooking for them. Draco started to wonder if he would ever fit into her life the way Weasley had. He already knew he could never offer her a warm invite over to the Malfoys... or whatever might be left of it.

They were all quiet again, but Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded toward Draco beside her.

Harry took the hint and attempted to think of something to say, "So, you two were together for awhile... what, er, what does Draco know? You know... about what we've been doing...?"

Hermione glanced to Draco, then back at Harry, "Well, as you know, I told him about the horcruxes. I hope you're not upset. I only thought he could help. I mean he's been around You-Know-Who, a lot..."

Draco was contemplating his food, and how to handle it... he had little concept of what tacos were. When he looked up, he discovered all three of them were staring at him, so he offered, "I think his snake might be one - Nagini."

Disappointed that he did not explain further, Hermione picked up the subject, "Yes, apparently it's the  _essence of evil_."

Harry thought about it, "Well, the horcruxes-you can feel the dark magic on them. At least, I can."

Hermione shot him a sympathetic look, knowing he more than just  _felt_  it.

"Yes, it's probably because you're connected to him. I hope it hasn't taken too much of a toll on you since my absence, but you said you haven't been getting any visions?"

Draco looked up from his plate, remembering Hermione had touched on the subject before. He was curious to know more of the details.

Harry shrugged, "Yes, but now they're more like nightmares I can't always understand. It feels like he's blocking me now, but I can still sense his emotions."

Hermione related, "After Bellatrix's curses, I had nightmares. Draco had to snap me out of them."

Ron and Harry both simultaneously glanced at Draco again.

She continued, "We waited until I was able to go two days without issues so that I wouldn't be a burden to the cause. I hope they don't come back."

Reaching for her hand across the table, Harry softly replied, "Hermione, you'd _never_ be a burden. We're glad you're better and for what it's worth, I'm more sorry than you know."

Hermione quietly nodded when suddenly, Draco cleared his throat, "Granger, great meal, I think I'll go get some rest now."

Everyone's eyes followed him as he stood, moved to put his plate in the sink, then walked back toward the den. Hermione froze, wanting to wish him a good night, but worried that it might look too obvious. What she really wanted to do, was follow him into the den. However, the door closed gently behind him, leaving the old trio back alone at the table.

Full of curiosity, Harry leaned in toward her, "So, what was it like being with Malfoy for that whole time? I mean- where did you stay?"

Hermione smiled. She had wondered when they would ask for details. "The tent."

Harry's eyes flickered to her purse, where he knew it was stored. Ron only furrowed his eyebrows.

"It wasn't bad at all," she went on. "I admit I was resistant at first, given our history, but keep in mind that I was wounded. I slept a lot and I needed help because of my legs, and... he supported me. He was kind, while I was the stubborn one."

Ron abruptly interrupted, "I'm sorry, Hermione, why would he  _just_  switch like that? No one changes  _that_ quickly."

Hermione sat back, crossing her arms, "Look, this war has changed us all. I think... I think it gave him courage to do what he  _wanted_ instead of what his family had always taught him to do."

Harry's eyes fixed on his empty plate, and Hermione could tell he was reflecting on his own past circumstances of feeling trapped by the Dursleys. She suspected those summers had been far more miserable than he let on.

Turning her attention back to Ron, Hermione reasoned, "You've always had a loving family who didall the right things. You've never had to change so drastically. I think Draco still doesn't know who he is or what he wants to be, but I can tell you, the changes he's making are for the better. Try not to push him, please. Give him space."

Silently trying to confirm with Harry that this was all wrong, Ron was relegated to looking offended when his best mate was not forthcoming with support in his fight against Malfoy. Possibly feeling outnumbered, he took a deep breath, "Hermione, I'll do my best- for  _you_  at least... but if he gets out of line-"

Exasperated, Hermione stared at him pointedly as she replied, "Yes, Ron, I get it. Now, I'm sure you boys are tired. I might go read in my room and attempt to sleep. I need to adjust to this time zone."

Grabbing her plate to put in the kitchen, she retreated to the second floor. Although the stairs did not move and the couple of paintings she had passed did not come to life, the walk up to her sleeping quarters still gave her a pang of nostalgia.

The feeling lingered as Hermione wandered into an empty room on the second floor, shutting the door behind her. The room was mostly bare, and had perhaps been used for storage, but there was a small bed. She stood there a moment, staring at the single bed; the last time she had felt this lonely had been in her room back home, right before she cast the memory charms on her parents.

This time though, it was for another reason.

After freshening up in the bathroom, she turned the handle slowly and glanced down the hall at the other two closed doors belonging to Harry and Ron. Once she had determined that the boys had both retired for the night, she tiptoed down the hall and turned to go downstairs.

The glow of the fire was fading, but it was enough for her to easily see the den doorway. Instead of knocking however, she reached for her medallion to quietly notify him that she was outside.

Draco was sitting in the swivel chair at the small desk, but when his medallion alerted him, he nearly fell off. He quickly got up to open the door and, attempting not to appear too eager, he let her in.

Feeling as if she was over to pick him up for a date, Hermione smiled as he opened the door, until she noticed that his eyes did not meet hers. Clearly, something was bothering him. A dim light from an oversized lamp, the bottom of which could have passed for an ancient water vessel, lit the room. Noting a beat-up, olive-colored couch that sat against a wall and next to the window, the piece of furniture was seriously ugly and had a series of threads pilling from the dated flower pattern. Nevertheless, she made her way over to it, half expecting Draco to sit down beside her. But he only closed the door, slowly drawing his hand away from the handle. Lingering there, he did not look up until she spoke.

"Why, hello..." She tilted her head to find his eyes.

Appearing anxious, he paced over to a shelf behind the desk and with one hand, began to tinker with a few small figurines that sat there. Hermione scanned him, and noticed his other hand was by his side, back to the little habit she recalled from the tent, of him rubbing the pad of his fingers across the nail of his thumb.

All she wanted was the Draco she knew in the tent. The urge to kiss him was strong, but not like this. Having an idea of what might be bothering him, she decided to simply bring it out into the open, "Well, the talk with Ron went as well as it could have. Harry thinks he still has feelings for me."

Draco picked up a small wooden race car from amongst the figurines and turned to her, leaning against the shelf. Instead of meeting her eyes, he kept his focus on spinning the little wheels, "Yes, this is obvious to everyone...  _except_  you. Did you tell him, you know... everything?"

Hermione's heart raced. There it was again:  _everything_. Though she knew he did not mean it like that... or did he? She could never explain  _that_  to Ron. She would not dare.

"I told him that we have become friends. I reminded him that you saved me and that you have no ill intentions." She paused, twisting one of the little threads sticking out from the couch. "I think he wants to believe me but, to be sure he would feel more comfortable with you taking my batch of Veritaserum, which we expected."

Draco nodded, remaining quiet. All he could think about was how he had to share her with them while hiding their relationship. Though he had expected it, actually being in the situation was even less comfortable than he envisioned.

So far, his life had been laced with deception, so that he was never truly sure which part of him was organic or forced. He imagined that hiding things such as this would come easier at this point, but he was merely exhausted by it. Though he was certain of a handful of things that he would never forgo; potions, flying and Hermione.

"Draco, I  _will_ tell them about us, I promise. But rightnow, I want to focus on the mission at hand."

She stood up and approached him, gently taking the little car from his hand and placing it back on the shelf. Then she stroked his cheek toward her and leaned up to give him a kiss on his lips. He did not reciprocate.

When she stepped back, he looked sadly into her eyes. Something about his expression made her panic, like he was about to tell her something awful. Maybe that he wanted to back out of their relationship. Shakily, she whispered, "Draco, do you still- are  _we_  still-"

Exhaling sharply at the unspoken suggestion, he insisted, "Granger, it would take a hell of a lot more than  _that_  to get rid of me." He pulled her in for another kiss, one that was meant to remind her that he was not going to give up.

Her body relaxed until he began to send kisses down her neck. She felt like she had him back and quickly remembered how good it felt to have the heat of his breath against her.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body against his as he stumbled back into the desk behind him. With a combination of balance and agility, he grabbed her thigh and she lifted it up around his waist, causing him to hum.

He lowered himself to lift her against him, allowing her to straddle him as he made his way over to the couch. Draco plopped himself down, while the springs in the old couch audibly strained under their combined weight.

Legs wrapped around his waist, she adjusted herself against him and leaned in, hoping for the taste of his kiss. Matching her fervor, his tongue tease the tip of hers. She sighed contentedly and went back for more. In the midst of their kissing, he began to move somewhat awkwardly and she paused, only to watch him blindly reaching for his wand on the nearby side table. Nearly knocking over the oversized lamp in his haste, Draco quickly cast a, "Silencio." Then, slamming his wand back down, he grabbed Hermione's hip.

She grinned and went back to kissing him, ruffling up his hair between her fingers. She broke their kiss to impatiently tug at the bottom of his shirt before taking it off completely.

Draco matched her move and pulled her shirt off as well. The weight of her medallion on its chain settled between her breasts and she touched it. Though she could not see his, she watched as he went to apparently touch his own as well. They exchanged small smiles before he leaned to kiss her collarbone.

When his lips reached the strap of her bra, he looked up at her while slowly sliding it off of her shoulder. She arched her back, reaching behind her to unclasp it for him, letting the garment fall to the floor. Then she pressed her body against his, relishing the feel of his fingertips gliding across the skin on the small of her back.

His hands curved under her bum to lift her slightly, giving him just enough leverage for her breast to meet his lips. His reassuring glimpses, concerned for her approval made her heart flitter. She had just realized, this was her favorite part of their intimacy.

Watching her reaction, he coated his tongue across her firm peak, causing her head to tilt back in pleasure. He grinned up at her before attending to her other, soon muffling a moan into her chest as she rolled her hips against him.

All of the drama between the boys was forgotten for the moment, and in her ambition she reached down to fumble with his belt buckle. This did not feel like their explorations in the bed of the tent, but rather a full-on acceptance of the passion they ignited in each other.

Draco paid no mind to her unbuckling his belt, as he was far too focused on her breast, his hands wandering to the edge of her jeans. Unexpectedly, she shifted off of him to stand up, slightly reserved considering her partial nudity.

Though he suspected she was not trying to seduce him, he admired how she sensually bent down to remove her jeans. As she straightened, stepping out of them, his heart began to race. He was mesmerized at the way her fingertips hooked under the hem of her pink lace knickers. Draco lifted his head to meet her eyes, barely able to think.  _Did she plan this?_ He did not recall her other knickers appearing so dainty. He concluded that he should brood more often.

She began to pull them lower. He could feel his arousal straining his trousers.

As Hermione slowly peeled the knickers down her legs, she hesitantly stood up again, completely nude, and shyly looking up at him. There was only the dim light of the lamp to illuminate her nakedness, but all the same, she felt overexposed. Stepping toward him, his eyes were entranced. She glanced at his open belt buckle, which seemed to have been enough of a hint for him to snap out of it, because he urgently began tugging at his own trousers and boxers, tossing them aside, hardly able to take his eyes off of her. He reached to take her hand, guiding her back to him.

Hermione's legs stopped at his knees, and he let go of her hand to glide the pads of his fingers down the sides of her thighs. She closed her eyes to savor the feeling. Then she felt him lift her knee, placing her foot on the edge of the couch. He began to kiss along her inner thigh, causing more air to sweep across her center. She was fully open to him, to whatever he wanted to do, and it made her breath shiver from the erotic feeling.

Placing her hands on his shoulders for balance, she watched him trail kisses higher and higher. She leaned toward him, wanting more. An unexpected pinch on the softness of her upper thigh made her gasp and clench his shoulder. He slipped his arm under her knee, gripping her bum to push her against his mouth, sucking tenderly, then grazing his teeth against her skin. As he inched closer to her center, it sent quivers down her spine. Every so often, he would temper his lustful kisses with a soft one, but never for long. He bit her again, causing her to yelp, sure it was going to leave a mark.

Her exclamation gave him pause and he worked at trying to control his intensity. He worried that he had gone too far because she shoved his shoulder back roughly. Then, his lap was filled with the heat of her center as she straddled his hips. Instinctively he wrapped his hands around her waist pulling her against him, leaning to kiss her lips.

Hermione felt his arousal against her. Her knees dug into the old couch and she tried to ignore the spring that pressed against it, focusing instead on enjoying this new position as she lifted her hips and pressed herself against him. Watching him, she noticed his breathing becoming more intense. Clearly, he had enjoyed her maneuver.

Draco kissed her again, his hands not willing to stop pawing at her silky skin. All he wanted was to be pressed against her like this, having her all to himself.

Hermione could sense an intensity rising in him, from the way he tightened his grip on her hips, the forceful kisses making their way back down to her neck, and most of all, his length pressing harder against her. Something was different this time, something she could not exactly put her finger on, but she could not help but be enveloped by it nonetheless. Pressing herself against his chest, she wrapped her arms around him and began to trail kisses from his neck to his ears.

Draco could feel her breath wisp across his ear like a spell, making him long to turn that breath into a moan. Gripping her bum to lift it with one hand and gripping his arousal with the other, he guided himself into her.

Hermione felt his hand between her legs and then the tip of him, and she eagerly lowered herself, allowing him to sink the rest of the way into her. She had no idea how wet she had become, but both moaned with pleasure as he sheathed himself easily inside of her.

She nearly felt surprised by the feeling of him, still not entirely used to it yet. Would she ever be? Though, in this new position she swiftly learned that she could adjust the pressure to her liking and took full advantage of it.

She created a slow rhythm between them, lifting and falling onto him. Each time she moved, he writhed with pleasure. Deciding to try something new, she picked up the pace and he exhaled a moan, "Granger..."

Draco's hands slid across her hip, deciding to explore what had made her lose it before. He slipped his thumb across her bud and she gasped. Licking his lips as she bobbed on top of him, he did it again. He felt her tighten around him and he knew he was doing something right.

Hermione's forehead rest against his between thrusts. He pulled her hip down hard and she released a groan, witnessing a lustful grin curving onto his mouth. She could not chastise him though, not when she enjoyed the rough rocking against him just as much.

His thumb slipped across her in such a way, it reminded her of his devious tongue from the tent, though how he had perfected that, was beyond her. As soon as she looked up at him again, she caught him gazing at her in admiration. It made her heart leap, the way his intense gray eyes studied her. Curious about his deep focus, she inquired breathlessly, "Do you enjoy pleasuring me, Malfoy?"

This seemed to break his focus and he slyly leaned into her ear to murmur in a deep, sensuous voice, "I'll admit, I'd like to think I have a  _talent_  for pleasuring  _you_."

Then, in his arrogance, he thrusted upward, meeting her hips on the way down and she gripped his neck for balance to continue in this more aggressive rhythm. Finding humor in their little banter and in his pride, she really had nothing to compare it to, so she referenced her own inexperience, "You're the  _only_ one with _this_ talent to-"

She was not able to finish what she thought as an insignificant comment, as her focus went to the act of him once again slamming into her center.

Draco slowed his pace, understanding that she had no other intent behind her words, but all the same wanted confirmation, "Say that again."

He caught her eyes and held her tight, not allowing her to continue as he waited for her to respond.

Hermione looked at him curiously. Why had he stopped? Draco had the look of someone who had just discovered serious information, and was desperate for details.

"Please, Hermione... say that again."

Something about the low pitch to his voice and the urgent look on his face, made her realize this was important somehow. She tried to focus on exactly what she had just said, unsure why. "You're the  _only_ one with _this_ talent..."

Just like that, Draco was in a moment of deep euphoria. Ever since he had kissed her the first time in the tent, he still felt as if he would never be able to compete with the bond she had with her friends. Then, from her casual words, he was finally able to accept that he was possibly something more, and deep down he felt he had to keep that place. After she spoke, he quickly kissed her and let up on his grip so that they might continue.

Hermione knew something in her words had altered their lovemaking. He held her tighter on each thrust and he greedily kissed her neck down to her chest. Their pace had them both breathing hard as she ravenously bobbed on top of him, while the couch springs creaked ominously in-between their panting.

Draco groaned loudly and something about it triggered a realization: his ego was riding this, being the only wizard to have her this way. This sort of possession over her was something new, to belong to someone, to be the  _only_  one. The idea swirled around her lust-stricken mind and she began to lose herself, slamming harder against him.

Draco could sense that she was on the edge. He was already anticipating the telling three moans she was apt to make, and which he recalled from their previous encounters. As she grinded up against him, head tilted back, he concentrated on caressing her pleasure spot. Draco watched her body bucking heavily against his, wishing he could find words for how he felt. He wanted to say something important, to remind her that he cared just as much as anyone else in her life, possibly more. So when he felt her clench around him, her hands balanced against his chest upon her bliss, he unconsciously hummed, "I love you."

Hermione looked down at him in the middle of her second moan. It was difficult to translate what he had just said, because at the moment her mind was everywhere, and yet nowhere at all. She could feel him pulsing inside of her while he unleashed a long and low grown. Her third moan faded and she held him tight, trying to hold on to the last tendrils of ecstasy.

Still unable to concentrate, she kissed his shoulder, trying to determine if he had really just said...  _that_. The very same words were so close to free-falling from her mind and onto her lips, that for a second she wondered if she had actually said them as well. As she caught her breath, all she could manage was his name, " _Draco_..."

He rested his head on her shoulder as she leaned against him, both slowly winding down from their gratification. The dimly lit room was filled with quiet breathing as both seemed to be meditating against each other, possibly in the same thought. He kissed her neck gently, then made his way up to her lips.

They leaned their foreheads against one another, both smiling softly. But Draco did not entirely like the silence, feeling certain that it meant she was processing his words, or worse, considering them. He became nervous and though he had meant it, he had not intended to deliver such a powerful sentiment so hastily.

Hermione could sense much of this by the stare he had fixed onto her lips instead of her eyes, and she wondered if he was beginning to regret his statement. Admittedly, she did feel it was too fast to exchange this sort of declaration of love... but there was also a war, an endless fear and darkness looming at all times. Part of her felt like this type of happiness was frivolous, distracting from their goals, however at the moment, that part of her was losing. She would have to just forgive herself another time, because right now, she was bursting at the seams and it was all his fault.

She swept his hair across his forehead and traced his lips with her finger. Finally, he looked up at her to see if she would reply to his momentus admission.

She whispered, "How long?"

Draco searched her eyes, hesitating. Then he looked down, sliding his palms across her thighs as if to find the answer there. He felt her fingers under his chin, demanding attention to the answer. Draco bit his lip, debating on his confession, knowing she deserved the truth. He tried his best, "I think... I don't remember a time when... I didn't."

Looking up to check her reaction, he knew that either way, it was out. He felt slightly defeated, especially if she did not return the sentiment.

Hermione's eyes widened, studying his face. He appeared almost pouting, like a boy who had lost his first Quidditch match, and it occurred to her that maybe he was already accepting her bad news in return. "Draco..."

Draco looked away, feeling embarrassed. He quickly tried to cope, to concede that he did not deserve her love. Was this how it worked? Was she supposed to reciprocate it right away? He realized that he had no idea what was normal in this circumstance. How could he when  _she_  was his first? Even though less than a minute had passed, a flood of reasons as to why she had yet to say it back, ran amok through his mind... every general fuck up, along with the ones that plagued him the most: the name calling, the cursed necklace, the wine for Dumbledore, the vanishing cabinet... the list ran deep.

Hermione pulled his face gently back to hers and when he finally peered up to her, she grinned. She watched him closely, waiting for him to understand the smile in her eyes.

His heart raced as he tried to process her quiet meaning. He had never seen her like this before. His eyes widened in awe and his voice cracked slightly, "Really?"

She softly nodded to his astonishment; how easily she had just given him everything.

Hermione noticed for the first time, a small dimple in his cheek, and explored it with the pad of her thumb. As she leaned in to kiss him, he eagerly reciprocated, his breath shaking between kisses. His reaction to her exchange had somehow surpassed his actual confession, making her float with his devotion of kisses.

Draco was more than relieved that his admission was not in vain. He was generally overwhelmed that someone, let alone her, could mirror his sentiment. Draco fought the persistent logic in the back of his mind as to why she did, and tried to focus more on not ruining it, pulling her closer to him.

She hugged him tightly, not wanting to disconnect from the moment, from the feeling of his heart thumping against her own. How could she leave after this? She wanted to stay with him the rest of the night, but knew it would be a bad idea, lest they were found.

After a moment, she eased back, slowly lifting herself off of him. She began to reach for her clothes, but as she stepped away, he quickly grabbed her hand. She turned, understanding, "I'm not leaving, not yet."

The reassurance seemed to satisfy him as they both began to get dressed, though Hermione could not seem to find her pink lace knickers. She walked around the old office desk, in case she had flung them back there. With no results, she glanced up to Draco who seemed to be busily latching his belt. Perhaps they had gotten into the crevices of the couch cushions, in which case she really did not favor having them back.

She stepped into her jeans before making her way back to the couch and snuggling in with him. For a moment, they were both quiet.

Hermione's mind began to run again. Looking down, she knew she should go back to her room. She did not want to stir up trouble between the boys, or bring about any cause of distraction from their mission.

She eased off of the creaky couch, not liking the feeling of stepping away from him, "The serum could be ready tomorrow, are you prepared for whatever questions they'll ask?"

Draco leaned against the couch with his hands behind his head, "I will answer anything that is needed to help them trust me."

Grabbing the door handle, Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Well, do your best not to stray. I hope they behave."

Draco shrugged, knowing it needed to happen and not caring much, so long as he could stay with her on this abysmal journey. He stood, walking up to her before she opened the door, kissing her on her forehead, "'Night, Granger."

"Good night, Draco."

Hermione opened the door, peeked outside to confirm that it was clear, then walked away from the den. The fire was completely out and she hoped that she would be able to make her way in this new place. Suddenly she felt her medallion buzz against her chest, and a small glow that lit around her. She looked down, and for the first time noticed that the letters glowed softly, ' _your-knickers-are-mine'._

She whipped her head back, the small light, silhouetting his figure in the frame of the doorway, watching her leave.  _That little ferret._  She shook her head, trying not to snicker, which made it worse. Hermione turned back around, smiling to herself as the glow of the medallion lit her way, and continuing upstairs to her room.

___________________

* Thank you beta (HeartOfAspen) for the edits, per usual... but always, delightfully UNusual :P

And for that, you get badly written rhymes:

In a wood, stood aspen trees,  
they sensed passion, in the breeze.  
Some caught wizards, with their witches,  
others caught...  
all their britches.


	23. Exposure

The next morning, Hermione turned over in a strange bed, trying to remember where she was. She sat up, turning to face a window that looked out on a farm. Allowing her curiosity some indulgence, she stood and stepped over dusty storage boxes, approaching the window and wiping it down so she could see out it better. The land was covered in flossy green grass and long stone walls that reminded her of Ireland. If she craned her neck, she could see a wood fence that might have held in animals at one time. The foggy morning seemed unable to decide if it were spring or summer; the back of her neck was sticky with her hair matted against it, as it had only been cool and rainy the evening before.

Hermione grabbed her purse and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up, noting Harry and Ron's open doors and empty rooms. Once she was finished, she made her way down the narrow hall, the boys' chatter becoming louder as she approached. She strained to hear, wondering if their banter might include Draco, and her heart began to race.  _Did they start without me? Are they getting along?_

As she peeked her head past stair entrance, the chatter immediately stopped and Ron chirped, "Morning, can't remember the last time we ever woke up before  _you._ "

Harry looked at him, "Not true, she's been known to do some late-night seditious work, haven't you, Hermione?"

Just then, she heard something over by the den and her heart began to beat faster than before. The boys clearly had not heard it, because Ron snickered, "Oh, right, Harry... hats for house elves, is that what you're on about?"

Hermione tried to peel her eyes away from the den, forcing a smile up at them for their jests. Trying to remain cool, she went to pour some tea and make her way to the table, curious what the boys had been sniggering about.

"Oh, have some questions down already?" she noticed, seeing a sheet of paper between them.

They both nodded, smiling too knowingly for just simple questions. Harry cleared his throat, "We're still thinking of some more. We have 30 minutes so we might as well use them."

With curiosity, she leaned over to read them. At first she was pleased to see the standard questions, but then there was a range of completely ridiculous ones. "You can't ask those!"

Ron abruptly looked up, offended, "Why bloody not? We might as well have some fun."

Hermione pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "He has to  _agree_  to answer them before he takes the serum, otherwise you could violate his privacy."

Wide-eyed, Ron gaped at her, "He has to  _agree_ to them? We might as well toss this."

Harry stopped him from nearly ripping up the paper, shaking his head at the overreaction.

Hermione sat up, taking a sip of her tea, "You know, he answered a lot of questions for me that I thought he'd reject, so... you never know. Maybe he will answer some silly questions, just to gain your trust."

Privately, she had to wonder if Draco would set aside his pride in exchange for trust. Maybe for her.

Harry grabbed the quill from Ron, "Well, let's write some more out, in case."

Just then, the door opened from the den and all eyes were on Draco. He had a short-sleeved shirt on, which showcased the bandage covering his dark mark. Hermione entertained a passing thought that she had never seen Draco in shorts. Perhaps he had not brought any.

She smiled up at him, trying not to concentrate on the events of the night before, "Would you like some breakfast, Draco? The boys made it."

With a lazy nod, he slowly strutted over to the table, taking the spot she had been sitting before getting up.

Back in the kitchen, she grabbed the toast the boys had made, nearly laughing to her herself that they had 'prepared' breakfast. There was an odd sample of leftover crackers and mangled toast that they might have heated in a pan. She sighed, knowing that they could not stay here long. Grabbing the kettle of hot water to pour tea, she paused, remembering that Draco was a coffee drinker. Rummaging around the cabinets to see if there was anything resembling coffee, she came up empty-handed. Staring at a dead bug in an empty cabinet, she wished they were staying inside of the tent instead, as at least it was clean. Nearly chuckling, from completely forgetting that she had a whole bag accessible to such things, she walked over to her purse and began to  _accio_  for different items.

Ron inquired, "Did you remember you had more food?"

Holding a small press and coffee grounds in her hands, she replied, "Oh, just coffee."

Ron looked at Harry in confusion, then over to her cup of tea.

Harry queried, "You drink coffee now?"

Hermione paused, but quickly responded in a matter-of-fact voice, "No... I was going to make some for Draco."

She turned immediately, carrying the items back toward the kitchen, avoiding the judgment she knew to expect.

Shouting after her, Ron asked, "So, what else do you do for Malfoy? Sure you're not under a spell?"

Shaking her head as she finished plating poorly made toast on two dishes, she returned to the table and set them down, responding, "Ron, I told you, Draco and I are friends. Really, he saved my life. I think making coffee for him is the least of our worries."

Peeking back at the table, she was curious about their reactions to such a statement, but could only see Ron grimacing at Harry. She quickly turned away lest they catch her being too observant and she hastily began to make the coffee for Draco.

After she finished using the small coffee press, she found the cleanest mug and walked over to hand him the freshly made brew. The awkwardness of the interaction had everyone watching the mug as if it might transfigure into a puffskein at any moment.

Draco only mumbled, "Thanks."

As she sat down again, this time next to Draco, he brushed her knee with his and she buried her smile into her sip of tea. She did her best not to blush or give any sort of reason for Harry and Ron to suspect that she was over the moon, in love with the wizard next to her.

Clearing her throat, she settled her thigh closer to his and glanced over to the batch of Veritaserum on the kitchen counter, hoping to aim any attention away from their under-the-table flirting. "The potion looks complete."

Her breath hitched when a second later, she felt the heat of Draco's hand settle on her thigh.

Making her best effort to gloss over her tell, she quickly finished with, "Are the questions ready? When should we start?"

Thankfully, Harry and Ron were not confused by her behavior, despite that she had never been like this before, with anyone. Her only past experiences with dating had been with Ron or Viktor, and she had always been on the fence, not allowing her heart to melt into a puddle. Though, neither wizard had actually stated that they loved her before, or experienced any other part of her the way Draco had...

Trying to ignore the way his fingers tickled up her thigh, she hoped he was not being too obvious either. When she glanced over to him, he appeared completely bored, sipping his coffee.  _How does he do that?_

She exhaled, trying to settle her nerves, only able to lower her hand casually and stop Draco from testing her ability to keep a straight face by holding his hand tightly.

"Alright, boys," she said abruptly. It got their attention, even Draco, who seemed to suddenly decide to behave, pulling his hand away slowly as she continued. "Now, there are some rules here: one, Draco gets to review the questions beforehand and approve or reject them. Two, no asking any questions that are not on the sheet. Three, no wands. Four, if you are done with the questions and Draco is still under the serum, he can go into the den and wait it out without being pestered about it... and five,  _behave_!"

Ron scowled, "Why no wands?"

"It's part of the behaving rule. If you feel like  _someone_  needs a wand, it'll be me."

Harry tilted his head, looking at Ron, "You and Malfoy almost hexed each other yesterday. It's probably best."

He glanced over at Draco to make sure he agreed, but Draco did not raise a fuss like Ron had.

"That's fine," Ron muttered, his eyes also locked on Draco, "I won't  _need_  my wand."

Draco raised his eyebrows but only shook his head at the threat. He was already over this drama and did not want to make everything worse. Even Potter seemed to appear frustrated, as he shot Hermione a glance as if to say he could not control Weasley. Looking at Hermione to confirm her reaction, she seemed to be trying to overcompensate and was avoiding Draco's eyes.

"Right, okay, so if you're done with the questions, why don't you hand them over to Draco so he can approve them..."

Harry slid the paper across the table to Draco, while Hermione brought their empty mugs into the kitchen. When she returned, she stood slightly over Draco's shoulders attempting to read the list. But the nudge of his head regarding her presence alerted her that she was perhaps too close for his comfort, or at least for the show they were putting on.

Draco began to shake his head in annoyance, "Numbers 11 through 14 are daft and not at all connected to you trusting me."

Harry mocked his school rival, pressuring, "Not afraid to answer them are you, Malfoy?"

Hermione crossed her arms, annoyed that Harry would even play this game when there was a war swirling around them. The last thing they needed was some Quidditch pitch banter.

Draco shook his head in annoyance, implying that he disapproved of the list. He was however, truly relieved that nothing appeared to allude to anything about him and Hermione. He glared at Weasley, who was grinning from ear to ear.  _On the other hand_ , he thought,  _vexing Weasley might be rewarding._

Sitting back in his chair, he tossed the paper back, "Fuck it, let's start."

Hermione was surprised, as he could easily have rejected anything Harry and Ron wrote down. Monitoring the looks on her friends' faces, they also appeared surprised, and she tried not to look too proud of Draco. She went into the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets to find a cup of sorts. After wedging open a beaten-up drawer, she discovered a measuring cup but with the rest of the set missing. It would have to do.

She carefully poured the correct amount of Veritaserum, and there was room to spare, not yet reaching ¼ notch inside of the cup. She carefully walked back, trying not to spill any of it.

"Alright, everyone give me your wands and I will put them somewhere safe."

Setting the measuring cup down in front of Draco, he appeared to study the vessel. Reluctantly, the boys all took out their wands and handed them over to Hermione and she placed them in her bag. It felt strange to have all three wizards' wands in one place.

Taking her seat at the head of the table, she sat in the chair, only to rearrange herself a second later so that her legs were folded under her. The new position might not be comfortable, but the elevation of her knees made it seem as if she were presiding over the rest of them. Her wand was ready for any nonsense that might arise.

"Okay, thirty minutes. Draco, when you're ready to drink, we can start."

Draco brought the odd measuring cup to his lips, while peeking up at Potter and Weasley, who were not attempting to hide their intensity. He bravely tilted the drink back before returning it to the table as if it had been a shot of firewhiskey.

As soon as it hit the table, Ron went to grab it for inspection.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his paranoia, "Satisfied, Ronald?"

Glancing up, he confidently nodded before presenting the empty measuring cup to Harry, who also nodded in agreement.

Hermione glanced over at Draco. He appeared calm and waiting, his arms crossed on the table, his wrapped arm always covered by the other. She cleared her throat, ready to get this over with,

"Okay, go ahead boys..."

Harry decided to take the lead. Adjusting his glasses, he glanced at the paper between him and Ron before asking, "What is your full name?"

Draco sounded bored, "Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"Reason for becoming a Death Eater?"

"I was obligated to by my family."

Weasley made a huffing noise at that, causing Hermione to shoot him a look. Potter continued, "Are you a defector?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Draco sighed, no doubt they imagined him taking part in a multitude of dark, illicit things. On the contrary, even with a series of regrets, he would probably be considered a disappointment to the founder of his house, Salazar Slytherin. He answered, "No."

Potter paused, leaning back to whisper something to Weasley. Both boys nodded, and he continued, "Did you let Death Eaters into Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

He was never going to live that one down, and why should he? At the time he was so proud that he had fixed that vanishing cabinet, masking his fears of it actually working. Looking back, he was relieved that more damage had not been done by letting them through: students slaughtered, or anything his Aunt Bellatrix had prepared in revenge.

Bitterly, Draco's mind scanned his memory, searching for the truth in the events, did this serum work internally too? Such as, why didn't the so-called great wizard and headmaster stop so many things from happening? Defensively his conscience argued, how were young children supposed to fight this war?

So an old man died, he lived his life. But he doubted Potter, as Dumbledore's pet, thought this way about it. There was no way he could ever go back there again, even if she chose to. Peering up at Hermione, Draco could tell she was trying to keep a straight face, or at least he guessed that was why she appeared so emotionless.

Potter and Weasley stared at him, as if to portray all the bitterness of that day in one piercing glare. Draco had nothing further to say, so he waited patiently for whatever fury they were to send his way. Perhaps more questions about the day Dumbledore died. Instead, Weasley broke his stare, going back to scan the questions again. He nudged Potter to snap him out of it, pointing to a different part of the paper, and Potter nodded, clearing his throat,

"Who wins more house points every year at Hogwarts?"

Draco grunted, that was Weasley's way of bringing back so-called humor to the interrogation, understanding now why he was grinning like a cornish pixie. There was no set rule on skipping around the list of questions, he was just not expecting that one so soon. He could feel a tightening in his throat as the serum took hold of his willpower, the sense of holding back becoming more difficult the more he tried. "Gryffindor house."

Weasley nudged Potter again to remind him to relax, possibly still hung up on the previous question. Hermione cleared her throat to continue. The boys paused as if they were in class and McGonagall had just caught them cheating.

This time Weasley took over the list, "Are you under a curse right now?"

"No."

Weasley looked up at Hermione, then to Draco, "Did you put a charm or spell on Hermione?"

"No."

Draco tried not to react, honing in on blanking his mind of all thought after each question, like the Occlumency his mother and aunt taught him. Though, the idea of his having to put Hermione under a spell was beginning to grate on him, especially as he had just professed his love to the witch the night before.

Seemingly satisfied, Weasley passed the sheet back to Potter, who continued, "What is your patronus?"

"I don't know."

Potter tried his best to ask the next, but Weasley spoke over him, "Is You-Know-Who your daddy?"

Draco inspected his nails to show that this question did not in fact phase him in the least. If this were his Slytherin mates, he would have actually berated them for the lack of creativity. "No."

Hermione exhaled, knowing the questions were getting ridiculous. However, Draco  _had_  approved them. Harry pointed to the sheet and Ron nodded eagerly, "How many women have you slept with?"

"Two."

Draco counted himself lucky that Hermione had already known this, and was vaguely curious if she felt special that she was included in that answer; he could not tell by her tightly crossed arms and her foot bobbing nervously. He tried not to absorb her radiating nerves, but it was difficult, having declared himself the caretaker of her heart.

He caught Potter's stare, suspecting that he was full of disbelief, but why?  _Did he expect I had slept with more, or less? Stop. Don't ask, or else-_

Draco recalled when Hermione had given him such inquisitive looks when she was interrogating him back at the tent. He said far more than he should have, so he quickly aimed his stare to a knot in the wood table.

Weasley went on, "How many blokes have you slept with?"

"None."

Potter whispered to Weasley, "I told you..."

Weasley seemed annoyed and shrugged, moving to the next to find another one that might cover his failed attempt to humiliate him, "On record, who is the better Quidditch seeker, you or Harry?

This one bothered Draco, out of pure rivalry, and even if he could not control the truth, he seethed as it slipped through his teeth, "Potter."

Ron reached out his hand and Harry proudly high-fived it. Hermione shoved Harry's shoulder, leading him to try relaxing his face into something more serious. She decided to stand, walking behind Harry and Ron to see at what was left on the list before casually pacing around the table to keep busy. She hoped Harry would simply just wrap this interrogation up.

"Are you going to help the Order take down You-Know-Who?"

"I will try, yes."

"Do you have Hermione under the Imperius Curse?"

Draco could sense Hermione standing behind him, her presence nearly distracting him, "No."

Potter was clearly looking at something behind him, most likely Hermione, maybe to double-check that she was acting of her own free will. For some reason he kept his eyes on her. Draco felt the knuckles of her fingers sweep past his back, he imagined she was gripping the chair to diffuse her nerves. It only just occurred to him, by Potter's determined study, that maybe she was standing too close.

Oblivious to what Potter was doing, Weasley continued to scan the sheet for the next question. As he finished up another simple one about Draco's intentions, Potter perked up curiously, now glancing between Draco and Hermione.

"Why did you save Hermione?"

Ron squinted at the sheet, then to Harry. Hermione's face started to feel flush, as she did not recall that question being listed. She tried to reason that it was not altogether different from the rest, so it should be okay.

Draco shifted, nervously biting down on the inside of his cheek. It was simple, just answer like before; to get away from it all, to be free of the burden, and all that. Though, just like before when Hermione asked about his boggart, it was not at all what his subconscious deemed true.

In only a matter of seconds before his throat began to tighten again, he tried to brace himself, part of his mind rummaging for a hack from the serum. Was there not other ways to counter the truth? Surely there was. If he recalled, there were ways such as bloodletting, or vomiting, and some witchmyth on chugging a jar of pickled dragon's tongue, sniffing Graphorn powder, or sticking the wing of a lacewing fly under your tongue. Why did he not ask for a side drink from his potions kit, surely he had something?

In all his attempt to concentrate, Potter's stare seemed to burn a hole into him and Draco could feel Hermione growing tense behind him. Did she even realize she was standing so close? He tasted a bit of blood in his mouth from biting down, while his throat tingled. It felt as if there was a tiny creature piercing its claws into the flesh of his esophagus, spiking the roof of his mouth, and stinging his tongue until he opened his mouth. "Because I love her."

And there it was. It was out.

He tried to keep his eyes down. Maybe the soft, raspy response had gone unheard and they could move on to the next question, but Hermione's gasp said it all.

When Draco dared to look up, Potter had an inquisitive eye on Hermione but Weasley grimaced in disbelief at Draco. From the release of pain in his body, his mind seemed to be able to hyper-observe everything, as if the moment that had passed between them were in slow-motion.

There was a smudge on the lens of Potter's glasses and he remembered the moment in the tent when he had tried them on. The wizard's eyesight was so bad, could he even see past that smudge? Did it not bother him, the film on the lens, or was he used to it? Something about it gave him hope though. If Harry Potter had no time to clean that bit of grime on his glasses, maybe he would not have time to worry about what was going on between him and Hermione.

Draco swallowed hard, his mind scrambling for reasons. Maybe it was fine if it was  _his_ love for her, not  _shared_ , right? Why would they care?

The air was thick with unspoken questions, but no one seemed to want to address what they thought they heard Draco say.

Finally, Potter took his glasses off and began cleaning them with his shirt before putting them back on. Draco's entire body sulked.  _Fuck. He's going to pursue this_.

Potter glanced at Weasley who appeared equally baffled, then back to Draco, "Sorry did you say, you _love-_ "

Before Harry was able to arch his words into a full question, therefore forcing a response, Hermione frantically interrupted, "You can't ask him questions that are  _not_ on the parchment- the sheet... the paper!"

She was clearly frazzled, and unable to contain it. Her finger was shakily gesturing toward the paper that seemed abandoned on the table.

Potter looked up at her and it was obvious what he was thinking: why was she suddenly so agitated, her voice slightly trembling? Draco sighed, wishing she were less horrible at keeping her emotions contained. He glanced over to Weasley, who seemed to recognize that something was amiss from Hermione's behavior as well, as he had crossed his arms and made abrupt eye contact with Draco.

Harry argued back to Hermione, "But- he just- we can't just  _not_ follow up on _that_ one."

Hermione shook her head with determination, "You can't, Harry, it's a rule that Draco trusted you to follow... and it isn't even in direct correlation to the mission goals!"

Her voice was completely shrill now and both wizards were staring at her with raised eyebrows. Then, unexpectedly, Weasley leaned over the table and harshly demanded, "How long have you loved her for?"

Hermione was astonished, "Ronald! I  _just_  said-"

Draco clenched his jaw, feeling that tingle of magic becoming even more excruciating now, like mad gnomes eager to pull his tongue out where it was rooted. He grinded his molars against his already bleeding cheek, but it was swiftly becoming unbearable, until he spouted, "For as long as I can remember."

Draco exhaled deeply, partially from the release of the pain and partially over his failure.  _At the very least_ , he thought ruefully,  _she knows now that what I said last night was true... and not just because of sex._

Clearly agitated now, Weasley quickly stood, "Fucking  _bollocks,_  Malfoy! The way you treated her!"

Draco also stood up to match his aggression, "I could say the same to you, Weasley!"

At that, Ron lunged over the table at Draco, the gravity of his weight pushing him backward until Draco's chair hit the back of his legs, sending it flying back with a clatter. Another heavier, muffled thud followed as both the boys hit the wood floor. Hermione stumbled back to avoid them, while Draco attempted to stand, but Ron, having five brothers, had far more experience pinning another bloke down, "You know nothing about it!"

Harry and Hermione glanced at one another speechlessly before coming to a mutual, unspoken agreement on who to grab to break up the fight. Both failed miserably as they awkwardly avoided being hit by flailing legs and arms.

Draco struggled, but Weasley had him pinned, his face pink with fury. He seemed to forget all about the serum, demanding, "You Death Eater fuck! Do you  _actually_  think she would love you back?"

Draco pinched his face, avoiding Weasley's spit and trying to lift his body, but he was being pinned in such a way he could hardly move. Maybe if he could bang his head against the floor just right, he could knock himself out, or maybe he could insult Weasley so he might do it for him, but neither plan was quick enough. He chastised his jaw for not clamping shut, for weakening against the serum, even as he grunted under Weasley's knee digging into his stomach. "I didn't before, but-"

Weasley paused, his arms still clamped onto Draco's forearms, grinding his wrists against the old wooden floor. It was plain to see on Weasley's face when he recognized that Draco was still under the influence of the serum, "But what, Malfoy?"

Draco tried to glance at Hermione, as if to convey an apology, but Weasley did not like that.

"Don't you fucking look at her! Finish what you were saying! But  _what_?"

Fearfully, Hermione looked over at Harry as if to beg him for help, but he only appeared entranced by the scene. Somehow, she had forgotten that Harry was not close with Draco... why had she thought he would aid him over Ron? She leaned in to grab Ron's arm and he only shouldered her away, nearly hitting her. This only made it worse, as it allowed him to switch positions, pushing his elbow into Draco's neck.

"But  _what_ , you-"

The question had been asked so many times, there was no way he could hold back now; everything ached, and with the little amount of air being allowed to him, he rasped out, "But she does..."

Adrenaline pumping, Hermione glanced quickly at Ron to see how he would respond. He only seemed to stare at Draco's pinched face, which was now beginning to turn ashen from lack of oxygen.

With Draco still pinned, Ron slowly turned to look up at Hermione, appearing surprised to find that her wand was pointing directly at him. Trying to appear as commanding as possible, while gripping her wand with a quavering hand, she insisted, "Get off of him, Ron."

He only stared at her, not moving. Thankfully, Harry patted Ron's shoulder to encourage him, "Ron, get off. Come on, mate."

Turning slowly, he sneered down at Draco before pushing against him for one last go and then releasing him, so at last he could gasp for a bit of air. Harry clung to one of Ron's arms, in case he should feel a spike of revenge, silently leading him away. Both boys eyed Draco as he wheezed for more air, while Hermione rushed over to try to help him stand.

Once determining that he was able to stand on his own, she let go of Draco, to turn her ire on her friend, "Ron,  _that_ was unnecessary."

Defensively, Ron protested, "Hermione! He just said that he has  _always loved you_." He was breathing heavily and she could sense him thinking, connecting it all as he continued, flailing his hands about in disgust, "And, he e _xpects_  that  _you_  could love him back! Aren't you a bit surprised by any of that? I mean, after the way he treated you! Are you sure that serum is any good?"

Hermione glanced at Draco. It was clear that Ron had misunderstood, assuming Draco had been delusional in his response and that there was no way it was true, on her part at least. She was stuck; if she played along with Ron's theory, the boys might come to the conclusion that the serum was faulty and it would ruin all the trust she was trying to establish between them.

Calmly, Harry piped up, "Hermione... you knew, didn't you?"

It was quiet for a second. Draco glanced between Potter and Hermione, trying his best not to draw attention to himself, as he was still under the effects of the potion. He could feel his veins pulsing in his neck from from the exertion of his recent asphyxiation.

Hermione swallowed hard before nodding in surrender, "Yes, but I only found out recently." She dared to look at Ron but he appeared to be glaring at Draco as if he might pounce him again, so she quickly responded, "It just isn't important to the mission, okay? I think he answered enough."

"You  _knew_  he loved you?" Ron demanded, rubbing at his forehead as if the very idea was enough to bring on a headache. It seemed her feeble attempt to change the subject had not been enough, "He  _told_ you?"

Hermione closed her eyes,  _This is just going to fester, isn't it?_

Shifting uncomfortably, Harry nervously pushed back his hair, "So, you're okay with this, Hermione? Knowing that Malfoy has loved you,  _for as long as he can remember_?"

Sulking, she inwardly lamented,  _Damn it, Harry, why are you putting all your focus on this?_ She could tell he was not going to let this go, just as he hadn't when he had been wary of Draco back at Hogwarts. Having had those suspicions confirmed, seemed to only give him more fuel to push.She shot him a pained look, begging him to stop, but it only seemed to pique his interest more. He stood up straighter, glancing between her and Draco before his eyes went wide behind his glasses, now both hands were pushing back his hair.

He knew, and Hermione knew that he knew.

Ron was now eyeing everyone as if to ask what unspoken thing was passing between them that he had not yet picked up on. "What? Do you know something, Harry?"

She was relieved when it looked as if Harry had finally caught on that pushing this further would only hurt Ron. He had looked down to his feet, and Hermione did the same when Ron switched to turn in her direction for answers.

Sounding offended, Ron threatened, "Okay, if neither of  _you_  will answer me, all I have to do is ask the albino snake over there. He has about ten minutes left, yeah?"

Hermione's head whipped up to stare at Ron, then she glanced at Draco. Very quickly, her brain began analyzing her options: maybe she could cast a spell to knock Draco out, or even Ron. How long could she do that for? Maybe just a memory spell, while Harry could hold him down, and-

_What's the point?_

She made several decisions very quickly, suddenly appearing completely decisive, confidently stepping closer to Draco.

He was taken aback by the intertwining her hand with his. He watched her closely, his heart racing. Though he had bravely expressed his love for her last night, her exposing their relationship to her friends was a far more bold move. But it was also more than that, at least to him. As she gripped his hand tightly, he was sure his heart was going to explode. Without hesitation, she had decided to set him free of one more lie in his life.

The moment did not last long, as it was interrupted by Weasley's hot temper. "What the fuck! You mean, you two are... you're- you're barmy, you are!"

Hermione felt Draco clench her hand, and she tried to reason, "Ron..."

She was cut off by his turning and pushing a chair hard enough for it to fall over and slide across the floor. Hermione looked over to Harry, but he still seemed mainly surprised, though she could tell he was also trying to determine if they were going to have to break up another fight.

Ron turned, trying to eye everyone as if to find a suspect for this ridiculous absurdity. When he found no culprit, he instead turned and began to walk off toward the stairs, stopping just as he passed Hermione and pausing. Though he was facing her, he only looked down, like he was thinking of something to say to her.

There was a twisting in her gut, like she had just killed a member of his family and he desperately needed to know why she had done it before giving her up forever. When he finally looked up to meet her eyes, she braced herself for whatever he was about to say, ready to hear something about how Draco was working for Voldemort, or how she was under some spell of his. Having fabricated this conversation in her head many times, she was ready to defend Draco, and list off all the reasons why he deserved to start fresh.

Tightening her grasp on Draco's hand, she waited for what Ron was going to say.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of this quote, I’m certain this is where my beta’s mind is at right now;
> 
> “Sleep well, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”- Dread Pirate Roberts, Princess Bride
> 
> Either way, I’m still amazed that she has put up with me this long, is there not some Beta awards out there? I can come up with a few:
> 
> “Best Editor for Idiots” . “Most Likely to Waste Their Talents on Asshats” . “Making The Best of Amateurs” ...
> 
> Anyway, as usual, thanks HeartOfAspen.


	24. Confirmation

Hermione braced herself, watching Ron closely as he slowly shook his head in disappointment at her. He looked at the floor again, as if putting the last pieces of the puzzle together, "No."

There was a pause. Hermione glanced over to Harry for some sort of interpretation on what Ron meant, but he seemed just as lost. She turned back to study Ron, ready to ask him, but he only appeared to grow agitated.

"No, no, no," he continued, "because... because how?" Fixing Hermione with a wounded look, he asked, "How could you forgive him, and not me?"

Hermione felt a prick behind her eyes; he had hit a nerve, and she could feel all the memories of Ron's slight rejection of her begin to stream to the forefront of her mind. Clenching Draco's hand, she wished she could magically transfer all of her thoughts through her touch, so he could understand, to explain what Ron had meant.

She exhaled, trying to keep herself together. Her response came out with more frustrated shakiness than expected, "Because, you knew me, Ron. You knew who I was…"

Draco squeezed on her hand, and it gave her strength to confess her personal denial, the pain she had felt for longer than she would ever want to admit.

"...And you still hurt me. The mere fact that you didn't see that, hurts me still."

Ron lifted his head higher, new realization written all over his face. He blinked quickly over at Harry, but Harry only kept his eyes down.

Hermione stood there, waiting for him to respond, frustrated that he could only think to scowl up toward Draco as if it were his fault. He was always quick to blame someone else, never accepting liability for how he had made others feel.

After one last glance at everyone, Ron abruptly turned to stomp up the stairs. A moment later, a sharp slamming of a door pierced the air.

Draco kept his hand tight on Hermione's, unsure what to do. This was a part of something he could not touch, and he felt strange in this place between them. He exhaled heavily, trying not to allow jealousy and rage swell, knowing it was the last thing Hermione needed. Over all, he was frustrated that someone like Weasley could affect her so much, but he'd hardly had that type of relationship before, so he could not relate. Weasley had hurt her, and he had been unaware that it was an issue. Suddenly, he felt distant from her... what else, or who else, had hurt her that she had yet to tell him? Would he ever find out?

Harry sulked, eyes flickering toward the stairwell where Ron had disappeared, up to Hermione's face, "Hermione, why didn't you tell us? I mean, really…?" He had disgust written all over his face as he gestured to Draco, as if she had picked out the worst-flavored Bott's beans from the box, on purpose.

Hermione sighed. Despite that Harry's negative reaction was still clouding the room, Ron's exit had made the air feel lighter. She wearily looked over to her friend, "I know this won't be easy for you, and especially Ron, but we're... together."

She peeked up at Draco, to see how he would react with that being said out loud. He did not look at her, only pinching his lips, keeping his gaze low; it looked as if he was thinking it all through. Was this too much drama for him? It was something she really did not truly expect to come out so soon, as her mind was on priorities such as finding Harry and Ron, alive.

Harry combed back his messy black hair with his hands, and sank heavily into a chair by the table. Not wanting to add more to everything Harry was already going through, Hermione pleaded, "Please Harry, this should not affect the mission. It's why I- we did not want to tell anyone."

Harry's head fell into his hands on the table, and something about the action frustrated her. "Please don't make this harder than it already is. Draco is going to have to prove himself to everyone he meets in the Order. It would make it a lot easier if you and Ron trusted him. He answered everything under the serum..."

Draco stood still, studying her as she defended him, it was yet another thing he had never experienced before. He hoped it was not a burden on her as she unconsciously took the stance as his personal criminal defence solicitor. It was just another reason he had secretly admired her; the confidence she held standing up for something she believed in, unlike him.

As he looked down to their hands entwined, avoiding any involvement between them, he focused on a small freckle on her wrist. Memorizing the markings on her body made Draco feel like she belonged to him, even if Potter were to disapprove. Though, he suspected even the Chosen One did not hold any merit over her convictions.

As Draco guessed he would, Harry finally looked back up at her, sounding worn, "Okay, Hermione, for you... I'll try. But there are so many questions. You can't just expect us to move past it so easily."

Hermione loosened her grip on Draco's hand as she continued, "I know. But all questions should be directed at me." Glancing back to Draco sympathetically, she queried, "Can you give us a minute?"

Draco searched her eyes, wishing he could kick Potter out of the room and kiss her for everything she was going through, and perhaps, for everything she would continue to go through hereafter. Instead, he nodded and paced over to the den, softly shutting the door behind him.

Hermione watched Draco retreat to give them some privacy. From above, she heard something hit the floor of the upstairs bedroom, and suspected Ron was continuing his tantrum. It was followed by an aggravated yell echoing throughout the house, making her heart sink. She huffed quietly as she took a seat across from Harry. "Okay, ask me anything. This would be a good time... you know, without Ron."

Harry sat back against his chair, crossing his arms. "Well, when? Was this after he saved you?"

Hermione nodded.

Harry stared at her, waiting for her to continue, and she nervously adjusted herself in her seat as she tried to decide what was important for him to know.

"Well it was awful, you know, the hexes. I must have passed out... and when I woke, he was…" She stalled, thinking this was perhaps too intimate, and the last thing she wanted was to experience more of Harry's disapproval. So she decided to speak as briskly as she could, as if hastily uprooting a mandrake, "He was holding me, okay? And he gave me potions to fix me; his collection is rather extensive. Harry, I was really stubborn, you would be so proud..." She fidgeted with her wand, trying not to look up at Harry so she could concentrate. "He's different, and it's not a trick. He took Veritaserum and I believe him and, really we just got to know each other, without all of the influences of… well... people."

After inhaling finally, she peeked up at Harry, wondering if this would be enough, but judging from his raised eyebrows, it was clear he wanted more of an explanation.

"Look Harry, believe it or not, he's always liked me, and- well, you know what it's like living with a difficult family, and- he's had to hide a lot. I know you probably think I'm insane, since he was so mean to us..."

Realization dawning, Harry leaned forward and dropped his forearms to the table, cutting her off, "By being cruel to you, he was able to be close to you."

Hermione perked up, "Well, yes, exactly."

Harry tilted his head, trying to catch her eye, "And you?"

Hermione froze, looking down at the table, "And me, what?"

"How long have you fancied him? I mean, you did not just fall in love that quickly, Hermione, you think through everything..."

She bit her lip. Harry was right, why did she think she could hide things from someone who had known her for so long?

"Slughorn's class." She glanced up at him. "That's when it hit me. You remember the Amortentia potion?"

She felt her cheeks burn when Harry began to rub his scar. "Wow, that's… I mean, you hid that, really well."

"Harry, you would have probably disowned me as a friend if I ever told you I fancied Malfoy."

He snorted, "I would have tried to talk you out of it, for sure."

She gave a soft smile, and there was a moment of tentative silence between friends, until Harry glanced over toward the back den. "So, are you two are together... in the traditional sense?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose, wishing Harry had not asked. Her expression was all the answer he needed, "Hermione! Are you serious? I mean you two-? You, uh-" Stumbling over his words, he had a difficult time looking directly at her. "Well, you were in a tent together, for awhile right? So... okay, I don't need details."

Hermione was not sure if she was about to giggle or die from embarrassment. She hardly had these types of conversations with anyone, even her best friends. At the same time, it was a huge relief that he knew, and for a few minutes she felt like she was back in the Gryffindor common room instead of on the run.

Harry reached out, tapping her forearm, "You can't tell Ron. He'll murder Malfoy."

Hermione nodded in agreement, though her shoulders drooped at the thought of having to hide anything from one of her best friends.

"And please don't snog in front of us. I mean, maybe it's best to do nothing at all. Ron..."

Hermione huffed out a faint laugh, "Yes, any affection will be kept behind closed doors, I promise. You know, I don't think we're ever going to be that type of couple anyway."

Pinching his face into an expression of distaste, Harry shook his head. "Couple. Hermione and Draco… I can't."

Hermione replied quickly, "Yes, it does sound a bit- well, hey, don't think on it. We need to focus on the mission anyway. It's now midday and I think we need to discuss our next move to get a horcrux don't you?"

Harry sighed, looking up to the ceiling, "So, what should we we do about our lovable ginger?"

"Honestly, I don't know." She shrugged, following his gaze upward. "Should I go talk to him?"

He shook his head, "I say give him some time. If he's not down here in a few hours, one of us can go check on him then."

Scooting her chair back to stand up, Hermione decided, "Well, we need to start working on our next steps. Mind if I get Draco back out here, or-?"

Harry pushed his hair back again, "Yeah, let's see what the ferret can bring to the table, shall we?"

Shaking her head at him, she was still relieved that at least one of her best friends was willing to move on. Feeling ready and determined to strategize the more important task at hand, she made her way to the den to fetch Draco.

He was gazing out the window when he heard a light tap at the den door. Opening it, he was greeted by Hermione, who was holding out his wand to him. He hastily grabbed it and tucked it into his pocket, having felt too exposed without it.

She smirked, "I sort of enjoyed possessing this…"

"You would."

Hermione let out a small giggle and he looked at her strangely, "What?"

"Oh I thought, you did that on purpose, you know, wood…?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, "Wood?"

"Yes, you know, wands, wood… a pun?"

"This isn't one of those bucket things, is it?"

Hermione puffed out a small chuckle, and then sighed, suspecting that this was another miscommunication between the worlds they were raised in. She was only trying to break the tension in the room, but completely failing. "Look, let's sit with Harry and start hashing things out, okay?"

As Hermione turned to walk back to Harry she heard Draco grumble something but she chose to ignore it. As Draco sat next to her, Harry's eyes darted back and forth between them both, before he closed his eyes for a second. She suspected that he was trying not to imagine certain things left unsaid.

"Harry…" Hermione began.

Seeming to shake it off, Harry abruptly opened his eyes to begin, "Okay, Malfoy, we think we need to get into Bellatrix's safe at Gringotts. Any ideas?"

Draco nodded, "Well, I do... but I doubt you'll be keen on the idea. I have some Polyjuice potion in my collection, and a strand of Bellatrix's hair..."

He expected some sort of outburst in retaliation, or perhaps another suggestion, but instead they both seemed only to be waiting for him to continue.

"Have either of you used Polyjuice before?"

Hermione and Harry both nodded in sync.

Draco sat back, palms on the table, and glanced between them both, "Wait, really? You've both-?"

The two of them smiled simultaneously, which only made him more curious. Hermione gently placed her hand over his, "Draco, there's still a lot I have to tell you, but yes, we have successfully... and unsuccessfully... used polyjuice potion before."

He looked down at her hand on his, more interested than ever to hear the story of when she had used Polyjuice potion. She quickly pulled her hand away, and Draco saw that she was glancing guiltily at Potter. Draco tried to disregard the other wizard's slightly flared nostrils, deducing that the change in demeanor had been a result of Hermione's small intimate blunder.

She tried to move on, and cleared her throat, "So, I'll-"

Harry chimed in quickly, "Surely we can find another way-"

Draco turned to Hermione, interpreting her far away expression as deep thoughts around becoming someone she hated. He then noticed her forearm tuck closer to her body. "Granger, what better way to cast revenge, than to be her?"

Harry frowned at him, "Malfoy, I don't think-"

"Will you two stop?"

Draco felt Harry grimacing at him, so he glanced up, then looked away mumbling, "It was just one suggestion. We can think of more-"

"No, I'll do it," Hermione insisted sternly. After a pause, she exhaled quietly, "I can do this…"

Draco and Harry both spoke softly at once, "I know."

The two wizards glanced awkwardly at one another, unsure of how to react.

Draco decided to move on, though he had to resist reaching out to touch Hermione, on account of Harry being present. "Okay, I can go with you, you know. As myself. She's taken me once before, so it wouldn't appear… Lestrange."

Hermione's head whipped toward him to witness a small smirk growing on the corner of his lips. A short laugh burst from her. It was clear he did understand what a 'pun' was, so he either was messing with her earlier or he caught on quickly. Either way she enjoyed it far too much, seeing that he was making an attempt at cheering her up over a grim situation.

Glancing over to Harry, who only looked politely confused, she cleared her throat and tried to get back on track. "Okay, what about you and Ron?"

"I can use my cloak," Harry decided after a moment's thought. "Ron can squeeze in with me, assuming he still wants to come."

"Right, so, it's simple: you polyjuice into Bellatrix, and I'll be with you... the two of them hide under an invisibility cloak, and we get into the Lestrange vault to see if there are any horcruxes. If there aren't, we leave the same way we came in. Easy."

Hermione drew a line on the table with the pad of her finger as if it were a map of the location, "If we get past the front, maybe. Or it could be more difficult, depending on what precautions Gringotts has taken since the rise of… You-Know-Who."

Harry was also hesitant, "If we do find one in the vault, I don't know how I'll react to it…" He dropped his hands as if already giving up, "...Or how we can defeat it. We don't have anything at the moment to destroy them. We had the sword, but lost it at the manor."

Draco crossed his arms, "How do you destroy these things?"

Hermione sat up straight in her seat, as if ready to answer a question for a professor, "Well, Harry has destroyed one with a basilisk fang, and Ron did another with the Sword of Gryffindor."

Draco raised his eyebrows, tucking his arms in tighter. This was a lot to take in, and he attempted not to ask more questions, trying not to appear naive. Luckily, as per the usual when it came to facts and explanations, Hermione continued for him.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor is goblin-made and takes in only what makes it stronger. Harry used the sword to stab a basilisk, therefore the sword collected the strength of the basilisk, becoming another weapon."

Draco loosened his grip, collecting his thoughts, "So we need to find a basilisk fang, or get that sword back?"

Harry propped his elbow onto the table, resting his chin on his knuckles, mumbling, "We'd have to go back to Hogwarts to get more…"

Draco shook his head, "There's nothing else that destroys them?"

"None that we're aware of…"

Harry stood up abruptly, moving to stand behind his chair and gripping the top edge, "We'll need to go back."

Hermione sympathised, "It's not a step backward, Harry, I'm sure, if the answers are there…"

"Do we even know what is going on there?"

Harry leaned into the chair, "Well since they're still trying to conduct school, I'm certain they've put up extra protection." He peeked past his glasses down to Draco, "You know, so Death Eaters don't get in… again."

Draco stared at the table, clenching his jaw as he adjusted his forearm. When he finally looked up at Harry, it was to reply, "Well, you three will have to go alone-"

Hermione interrupted, "Draco, we'll figure something out."

Clearly agitated, Harry thrust his chair forward, nearly tipping it over. Draco assumed he was thinking on all the malicious things he had done in the past, suspecting that Harry was still indecisive about his allegiance. As Harry walked away, he blurted, "Malfoy, get your potions. I'll be right back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> Been a busy summer, sorry for taking so long to update! Guess what? Met my beta, IN REAL LIFE! (Sorry techies... I mean: IRL) Yes, I'm still surprised she is still editing my stories :P hehe Thanks HeartOfAspen!


	25. Transition

Draco set his bag down heavily on the table. He glanced up at Hermione as he reached for his potions, noticing that she was watching him too closely, like her mind was elsewhere. Placing a vial of Polyjuice on the table, he was about to speak when Harry approached.

"You have Polyjuice potion already?" Potter queried.

Draco nodded, lifting the vial to prove it while still looking at Hermione. She seemed to snap out of her deep thoughts suddenly, and cleared her throat. 

Harry stepped closer for a better look at Draco’s collection. “What’s this?” He pointed to the box Hermione had previously explored while they had been living in the tent. 

She crossed her arms, “It’s full of hair.”

Harry appeared perplexed, “Excuse me?”

Defensively Draco rebutted, “It was just for testing…”

Harry slid the case closer to inspect it, which Draco did not like, possessively sliding it back. 

Adjusting his glasses with partial suspicion, Harry peered at the other items peeking out of Draco’s bag. "Blimey, Malfoy, what are you, a mad scientist?"

Draco grinned, “Well…” 

He was interrupted by a bitter voice near the stairwell, "You can get a lot when you're filthy rich, I reckon."

Both Hermione’s and Harry’s heads swiveled around to look at Ron; Draco only quietly sniffed, opting to say nothing, and proceeded to open a small box containing strands of Bellatrix’s hair. 

Continuing to keep his distance from the three of them, Ron had crossed his arms and merely leaned back against the newel post. Harry shifted so Ron could see what they were doing, in an effort to include him. "We're checking out the Polyjuice potion Hermione will have to take... to become Bellatrix."

Remaining in place, Ron only peered up, looking into the general area of the table and avoiding eye contact with everyone. Draco quickly shut his case; he assumed Weasley would not take it kindly if he discovered that one of the small drawers contained his own hair.

"Okay, Granger, here is her hair... and  _ this _ is a vial of  _ two _ -hour long polyjuice."

Hermione slowly reached out for both items, not eager to hold the hair of her enemy between her fingers. The hair was thick and coarse, and the second she plucked it from Draco’s outstretched fingers, she wanted to drop it near the fire.

They had all gone quiet, but she could feel the boys’ eyes on her, even Ron’s. Not wanting to appear weak, she wrapped the hair around the vial and shakily grabbed her purse to find a small pocket where she could keep it safe. Having safely stored them away, she placed her bag down again quickly, like it had stung her. Someone shifted, which caused her to focus back on her friends, and she peeked up to see Draco and Harry exchanging glances. 

Something about it bothered her, that perhaps both of them were thinking the same thing. Even if they had never agreed on anything in their lives, she did not want their first accord to be about her wavering courage.

"I'll be fine!" she burst out.

Ron seemed to have picked up on Harry’s and Draco’s mutual doubt. Taking advantage of the situation, he made his way over to the table near her, “I know you will be, Hermione. Bravest witch I know.”

His abrupt mood alteration caused everyone to study him; something about it immediately bothered Draco.

Ignoring their scrutinizing, Ron stuck his hands into his pockets, "Anyone want to catch me up on the plan?”

Harry nodded, his eyes flickering to Draco, who was busy tucking everything away into his bag. When he had finished, he walked back to the den, and did not reappear.

Hermione hesitated, wondering if she should go check on him. Luckily, Harry was perceptive enough to make it easier on her, “Hermione, why don’t you, er, get some air. I’ll catch Ron up on the plan.”

“Harry?”

“You’re about to turn into Bellatrix,” he insisted, letting the weight of that reality settle. “Trust me when I suggest you should get some air before you do something like that.”

Hermione studied Harry for a second wondering if he wished he had a few moments of preparation before his visions into Voldemort’s mind. With a shiver, she was suddenly thankful that she was only posing as Bellatrix, as opposed to an evil witch invading her mind.

She quietly pushed in her chair, glancing up at Ron for the briefest of moments before walking over to the den to see if perhaps Draco could use some fresh air as well. 

The door was slightly ajar. She tapped lightly on it, “Take a walk?”

Draco turned away from the window to look up at her, nodding quietly. Hermione guessed that something was wrong, and suspected it had to do with Ron.

As they both approached the door to step out, Ron chirped, “Don’t forget the protective spells.” 

Everyone paused and gave Ron an odd look, but he only smiled softly at Hermione. She held up her wand in response. “Yes, thanks for the reminder, Ron.”

Pushing open the door for her, Draco guided her outside, as she took a single backward glance at the table toward Ron, only to find him glaring past her with his eyes fixed on Draco. It made her wonder if he had some plan to hex him in his sleep.

Closing the door behind her, she turned toward Draco, who was shaking his head and nearly smiling.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“You mean Ron?”

Draco huffed, looking upward where there were dark clouds in the sky. “He’s not going to give up.”

"Oh, really,” she retorted, “and  _ you _ know  _ Ron _ well enough to know this?"

Draco looked down, slicing the thick mud by the toe of his boot, "No, but I know what it's like to be in love with  _ you _ .” He peeked up at her, only just noticing in the daylight the bright red paint of the old wooden door that she stood in front of. “He would never just suddenly be out-of-love with you.”

Hermione took a step down from the stone stoop, wanting to be closer to him. “Oh?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he replied, “Yes, well, he’s taking a different approach than I did…”

With a chuckle, she teased, “Oh, you mean, being nice?” She raised her arms to focus on casting a few protective spells around them to prepare for their walk.

Draco watched her closely, mumbling, “Is that what you’d prefer?”

Finishing her spellwork, she sighed. “If I prefered  _ nice _ ,  _ we _ would not be here right now.” Pushing up onto the balls of her feet to kiss his cheek, she took his hand and nudged him to walk. She glanced back at the white stucco cottage, “Besides, I know what he’s doing. I would have remembered the protective spells…”

Draco walked in step with her, their shoes slightly sticking to the areas of spotted grass and mud, “Oh yes, you’re just too clever to forget such things.” He squeezed her hand, nudging her gently. They were walking toward a broken-down white fence that looked as if it had held animals at one time.

Hermione grinned, relieved he was appearing to let go of whatever jealousy was building up. She replied to match his sass, "Yes, well,  _ I am _ the brightest witch of my-"

Before she could finish, her foot slipped in the mud, and with a short yelp, she lost her balance. 

Draco’s arm was yanked down with her, but she had released his hand when she fell. Now, he looked down at where she sat in a thick layer of mud, and burst into a hearty laughter. 

Noting her annoyance, he tried to stifle his mirth as he reached down to help her, "Clever you may be… but-"

Instead of letting him help her up however, Hermione gripped his forearm, pulling him hard to the earth. He, too, slipped, falling on his back and sending mud splattering in every direction.

Wiping away a bit of the muck that had splattered onto her face, Hermione began to cackle, “Yes, what were you saying about preferring _ nice _ ?”

Heavy with mud, Draco sat up abruptly, arms out, "You are _so_ _vengeful,_ Granger-"

She quickly grabbed his shirt, dirtying the front and pulling him in for a kiss before he could continue. Taking the hint, he pressed back, pushing against her more and more until she was falling backward again. She squealed as the cold mud seeped through her shirt, pausing only to look up at him hovering over her. He was grinning, so she glanced down to his lips, giving him a small peck as she simultaneously reached for a handful of mud and quickly plastered it all on top of his head.

He broke their kiss, stunned.

"Hey, you look good as a brunette, Malfoy," she teased.

A slow grin began to grow on his face, making her heart race; she recognized that expression from the lake. She attempted to squirm out from under him before he could do anything, but her foot only slipped in the mud again.

Pressing against her leg with his knee, he murmured, "Where do you think you're going, Granger?"

Grabbing a pile of mud into his hand, he slathered it across her hair, as he challenged, "Maybe this will tame those locks!"

Mind racing, Hermione knew she had to do something fast. Scooping some more mud into her hands, she was only able to reach his lower back underneath his shirt, and slopped it against his bare skin.

Draco groaned, arching his back in shock.

Hermione tried to get up, but he was too quick. Holding her arms down, she felt the heavy, cold mud against her belly and she screeched. It only made her sink more into the mud below, "Draco!"

He let go, shifting to let her up. "Granger, I know you're tougher than that- and don't even pretend you're innocent."  

She studied him as he settled next to her, only spots of his pale skin and hair showing now. "Thanks to you."

As she scanned her gaze up toward his muddy hair, there was a slight feeling of displacement. Draco did not look anything like himself, and she wondered how different she looked as well. Just as she was about to say something, she felt him press against her lips. Then, she fully allowed herself to imagine they were other people, in another world, where there was no war going on.

A long roll of thunder swiftly eased into a slow rainfall. Draco paused, pulling away from their kiss, and they both glanced up to the sky. Soon enough, the rain was falling harder, the mud on their skin beginning to thin out.  

He watched her as she closed her eyes against the raindrops. Something about her sitting there, defenseless against the rain, made him lean in to whisper, "I always thought I'd be that boy, waiting for your letter..."

She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. Not sure what had made him confess such a thing, he watched her, not knowing how to continue, distracted by her freckles as they slowly reappeared when the mud washed away from her face. He could not think clearly, not when there were drops of rain clinging to her eyelashes, just as they were when they first kissed. 

She reached up to wipe mud away from his cheek, “Did I ever thank you… for saving me?”

Draco began to grin, leaning in toward her as he slid his hand across her hip, “Oh yes, a few times, I believe.”

He leaned in to kiss her neck, as she lightly slapped his shoulder. Her skin felt cool against his lips, and she gave a slight shiver, noting the drops of rain on his back that now felt like ice. 

Moving to stand, he reached for her hand, "No tricks, Granger."

She gripped his forearm and he tightened his hold on hers, "I would _ never _ -"

As he pulled her up, a pain jolted through her arm, and she winced as he let go. Touching her skin where it had prickled, she wiped away the residual mud to reveal her scar. 

“Are you okay?”

She looked up at him, nodding, “Yes, perhaps the mud… it just stung for a moment.”

As the rain began to feel heavier, splashing back up from the puddles, they headed back toward the house. At the door, Hermione stepped up to enter, but felt a tug on her hand. Draco had pulled her closer, kissing her strongly, as if going into the house meant that it would be their last.

She broke the kiss and looked him over, giving him a soft smile. As they stepped in, Harry and Ron immediately looked up from the table. Dripping wet, she nodded to Draco before turning away to go shower and change. She suspected he would retreat to the den and use magic to clean himself up, and she felt a pang when she realized that she wished he could join her.

During her shower, her mind initially fluttered with happy thoughts about Draco, her emotions floating until... it was as if she stepped into a dark hole. That hole was reality, and her logic forced her to confront the idea of transforming into Bellatrix.

Her heart raced.  _ How will I act like her? I will have to alter my voice! I will have to find horrible clothes and heels, and feel her rotten teeth! _ Trying to calm herself by thinking logically, she was glad there was an expert in the house: Bellatrix’s own nephew. 

Once she was dressed, she padded down the stairs wrapping her hair into a messy bun. She glanced over to hear Ron, who was playing opposite Harry at chess, as he bemoaned that Muggle chess was far less interesting than he was used to. Shaking her head at the thought that Ron managed to fuss about such things no matter their state of predicament, she went directly to the den to knock on Draco’s door. 

Draco opened it, looking at her, then over to the boys still at the table, "Granger, you look intense all of a sudden..."

She nodded, "I need help.” Clearing her throat, she specified, “I need to learn how to  _ be _ Bellatrix."

Ron’s voice came from the direction of the table, "You can do it, Hermione… if anyone can, it's you."

Hermione smirked at Draco as he rolled his eyes, well hidden from Ron. She turned to face the boys at the table, and began to walk toward them, "Thanks for your confidence Ron. I am… nervous. I thought Draco could help me with some of her expressions and words."

Harry dropped his pawn, giving up on the game, puffing out a breath, “Well, don't say anything too... nice… "

Crossing her arms she made a calculated effort to acknowledge Ron as she peeked up, "So, where do I start?"

Hermione guessed that Draco had approached as Ron sat up slightly, then she heard him join the conversation, "She's taller than you, and walks in heels..."

Hermione let her arms fall to her sides, "I’ll need to find a pair…”  

Ron eagerly spoke up, "Oh, and she moves her head a lot as if to study her prey..."

Harry contributed, "You'll have to be ruthless, Hermione. If those Goblins see a change in Bellatrix, they'll suspect something."

“Yes, if in doubt, be aggressive and throw objects around. You can do that, right?” Draco tilted his head, as if to check that she understood.

Hermione only shook her head. She knew he was jesting about the time she had tossed that vial at him in the tent, but right now, she needed to focus. “Right, what else?”

For the rest of the evening, the four of them compiled tips and suggestions. At moments she felt like they were school kids again, as Ron gave his best cackle impression courtesy of his mother when she retold the story of  _ Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump _ . The feeling was brief, she should not take this lightly. Failing at a passable imitation of this evil witch might get them caught, or killed.

Realizing they had not eaten, they took a break and Hermione thought to use leftover scraps of food to make some sort of soup. She hoped to convince the boys it was a normal Muggle meal as to hear less grumbling. 

As she was heating a cauldron of water, her scar began to prickle.  _ What was in that mud? Am I allergic to something?  _ She thought to bring it up to Draco, perhaps it had to do with Bellatrix, but as she glanced over, she changed her mind as she witnessed the boys all attempting conversation. From ear shot she suspected it was about professional quidditch. 

After they had each made an effort to down her questionable soup, she felt exhausted, and finally suggested they turn in for the night. They all agreed.

As she made to follow Harry and Ron up the stairs, she turned back to look at Draco, who was making sure the boys kept walking so he could give her a peck on the lips. 

"Sleep well, Granger, you'll need it."

Hermione swept her hands through his soft blond hair and kissed him back, whispering, "Good night."  

She smiled and turned to go upstairs, only glancing back to find him still watching her. Something about his unwavering gaze made her feel uneasy, as if he was committing her to memory. She suspected it was because they were about to go do something dangerous. 

Determined to get some sleep, she cleared her mind of the perilous task, and was somewhat successful for awhile... until she was abruptly awoken by a searing pain in her forearm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my Beta, HeartOfAspen, for harassing me to get these chapters edited, been quite distracted lately! Also, totally stoked that another one of my stories got translated into Russian (Broken Quill). I imagine young Draco in his ushanka (Russian fur hat), taking a bow, a smirk dripping with smug self-satisfaction. (Sigh) Why do we like him again? :P


	26. Chapter 26: Split

Hermione gasped as she sat up abruptly, instinctively grabbing at her throbbing forearm. As the intensity continued, her subconscious recalled everything from when the scar had originated at the manor. Trying her best not to scream, her mind swarmed with ideas of why it might suddenly have become so painful again. She glanced up, it was still dark out, but she noticed that the air felt different. Attempting to contain her agony, she looked around in the darkness, trying to place her finger on it. It was a particular smell, like the remnants of a popped firecracker. She took a few deep breaths in an attempt to extinguish her suffering, but winced as the air stung her nostrils.

She quickly went for her wand under her pillow, whispering, "Lumos."

When she pointed the light to her forearm, she found it smeared with bright, red blood, as well as a large spot where it had soaked into the linens of her bed. Tensing her body and groaning, it was as if the mark was being scratched into her flesh all over again. Immediately, she tried a few spells for mending cuts and scars but nothing worked, only a scouring charm managed to clean up her sheets. Standing up from bed, she held her forearm, hastily looking around for cloth to wrap it in while the blood continued to flow out of her wound.

 _Maybe it will stop soon,_ she attempted to reason.  _Maybe I'm allergic to something_... But she also knew that would not answer for the change in the air. Pacing the small room, she fought a brief battle with herself: she did not want to wake the others, especially when they needed their sleep for the dangerous mission ahead... however, the pain was steadily becoming unbearable, and she knew that the one thing that had ever relieved her of this, was Draco's potion.

Fumbling in the dark, she again whispered, "Lumos". She began to fret that her magic was failing as her wandlight flickered on and off. Swearing there was a vial or two of potion left in the depths of her purse, she attempted to summon one, but became frustrated when her  _accio_  spell failed. For a moment, she stared at the door while her open wound screamed for relief. Exhaling deeply, she finally resolved to make her way down to the den.

Hermione persevered in casting her  _lumos_  spell, though her wand stubbornly dimmed as she stepped carefully through the hall and down the stairs. Thankfully, there were small beams of light streaming through a few windows, illuminating part of her path. She stopped abruptly, swearing she had heard an unusual sound from outside. With uncertainty, she paced faster through the living room before approaching Draco's door.

Gently knocking, she turned to glance behind her, scanning the room again as the eerie sensation grew within her. When the door creaked open, Draco winced from the sudden brightness of her blinking wand, "Granger?"

"Draco, I... something is wrong." Her voice was shaking, her last word sounding cracked and faded.

Draco opened the door wider, glancing down to where her fading wandlight was pointed at her scar. She watched him closely, curious if he would agree that this was not to be taken lightly. He abruptly became alert, "I'll get my-"

As he began to turn back into his room, Hermione grabbed his arm, "Draco, I think... something is different."

Confused, he paused and turned back to look at her.

"The bleeding won't stop." She raised her arm to show him. "And, can you feel it? The air, it's... changed."

Draco tilted his head up to observe his surroundings better before his eyes grew wide. Grabbing her shoulders and lowering his head to hers, he urgently insisted, "Hermione, wake them up. We need to go.  _Now_."

The glow from her wand faded again, leaving a lasting memory of the fear in his eyes. She attempted to set aside the stinging in her forearm, considering it to be the least of her worries now. Nodding to him, she turned to run across the living room and up the stairs immediately, but nearly slipped on the floor. When she glanced down, her wavering wandlight revealed that it was blood. A panic rose in her, until she realized it was her own, which she had trailed behind her on her way across the room. Inspecting herself, she noticed her shirt was stained as well and began to feel lightheaded.

Urging herself to focus, she tried to ignore the fact that she was trailing bloodstained footprints behind her on each stair. She was finding it difficult to keep her balance, and had to take in a couple deep breaths once she reached the top. Exhausted, she knocked frantically at the nearest door, and without waiting for a response, swung it open, calling inside, "Get up, now. We're leaving!" She did not even bother to knock on the second door, her voice becoming shrill, "Up, now!"

Clumsily making her way to her room to throw anything nearby into her purse, Harry approached her doorway sleepily still in a shirt and pajama bottoms, "Hermione?"

When she looked up to him, he was putting on his glasses and inspecting the red-stained handprints on the wall that she must have left while managing to balance upright. Feeling drained, she rasped as loudly as she could, "Harry,  _now_. Get Ron!"

It was clear that despite his sleepiness, he understood, because when she glanced up to press him again, he had disappeared and she could hear him urging Ron to wake. Seconds later, leaving her room, she passed Harry, who was far more alert than Ron, as he tugged at him to follow. Both boys were still in their pajamas as they thumped down the stairs close behind her.

They had nearly made it to the final step when a loud shattering of a window near the front door made Hermione yelp. She crouched down low on the bottom step, even as Ron and Harry bumped into her from her abrupt stop.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Hermione's blood drained from her face at the familiar, dreaded voice: Bellatrix.

She felt an arm pull her back, and Harry's voice whispered, "Look. The shadows."

Hermione scanned the room, wand pointing shakily out in front of her, hoping it could still be of use in her current state. Silhouetted in the small beams of light that had come through the windows, stood three figures.

Before any of them could gain insight to who might be accompanying Bellatrix, a bright, red light zapped toward the stairway, causing Hermione to yelp again. Another light shot out from the den toward the shadows, which she suspected was Draco defending them. Then as quickly as it had begun, they were suddenly caught in a cross-fire of colors that briefly streaked in short flashes across the dark room. Hermione ducked to avoid a slew of hexes flying back and forth in front of her, as well as behind. She was forcefully tugged up a few steps by one of the boys, even as they both deflected one spell after another. She, too, attempted to focus on who to hex, but more than half of her casting fell short from her weakened state.

Thinking they should retreat upstairs, her plan was half-thought out when there was a sudden tug on her leg from below. Somebody had grabbed her, and she thudded down the steps, her wand flying out of her hand and clattering onto the floor.

She heard Ron shout, "Hermione!"

Struggling in the dark against the hidden figure, she was forcibly pulled up to stand, and found herself pinned against a body with her airways constricted. Squirming to free herself and unable to scream, she furiously clawed at the arm that was wrapped around her throat. Hermione's captor had a foul stench, as they strained to contain her.

Harry shouted for Ron, who was tearing back down the stairs, until Bellatrix's raspy, high-pitched voice commanded from behind her, "Cease, or she dies!"

The room paused with uneasy anticipation at the threatening demand. Hermione managed to peek up toward the stairs, trying to focus in the dark, and found both Harry and Ron pointing their wands up at her captor. Any slight movement caused Bellatrix to sink her nails into her skin, sending a sharp surge of pain throughout her body. Hermione began to tremble helplessly, unsure of what horrible things were about to come her way.

Ron made a slight movement forward, and she was jabbed with Bellatrix's wand in the neck as a result. " _Tsk tsk_. I wouldn't move if I were you."

Harry pivoted, pointing his wand past Bellatrix and Hermione guessed he was focused on who ever else had accompanied the witch on her man-hunt. Just a step below Harry, Ron was carefully scanning the area for the other shadowed figure, "Let her go!"

Bellatrix retorted flippantly, "No."

Hermione felt the tightening of the witch's grip, her wand pushing further into her neck, and she tried desperately not to whimper; the pain in her arm had become exponentially worse in the presence of Bellatrix. Her mind raced for answers on how the intruders could have broken in. Did the scar do more than just cripple her? Was that possible? How else had she got past their protection spells?

Everyone's heads turned when they heard a voice from the other side of the room, "Bellatrix?"

Hermione was tugged violently along as her captor turned in another direction. She was able make out one side of Draco, standing in a ray of moonlight, the other half of him cloaked in darkness. Everyone paused, watching him from afar, his inquiring stance altering the aggression in the room. Hermione trembled and a tear began to trickle down her face. She knew what he was doing. He had the pretense of confusion as he stood there, his head slightly tilted to the side.

The pressure from her captor's wand against her neck lessened somewhat as the witch inquired, "Draco?"

He moved briskly toward her, glancing over to the shadows across the room, before confirming, "Yes, it's me. What took you so long?"

Draco came to a stop in front of the two witches; Hermione squirmed, hoping to break free while Bellatrix was distracted. It was no use, the witch's grip only tightened as she confronted her nephew skeptically.

"Draco, we thought you dead. Stop squirming, Mudblood!" Leaning in close to Hermione's ear, she promised, "You'll soon get what you deserve."

Hermione's face pinched from her foul breath before she glanced back up at Draco.

Bellatrix leaned forward to inspect her nephew suspiciously, then nodded at the figures lurking in the shadows behind him. "Greyback, check him."

Abruptly, the werewolf grasped Draco's hair, causing him to stumble back until he slammed against the large figure. Keeping a tight grip on his roots, Draco winced when he was confronted with Greyback's face, heavily sniffing his neck. There was a tense silence, even where Harry and Ron stood firm at the stairwell while Draco was being inspected. After an awkward moment, Fenrir thrust him toward Bellatrix with a grunt of approval. Draco stumbled forward, swiftly containing his balance, with a prominent look of disgust Hermione recognized from their youth.

Bellatrix let out a light cackle, "Ah, nephew... Cissy will be so pleased."

Hermione watched Draco, in complete despair that he had come forth. His eyes were hidden as he stared at the ground. In her position she was able to just follow his gaze to the floor, where her wand lay abandoned near their feet. When she looked back up, foolheartedly expecting to make eye contact with him, she felt a wave of sorrow to find his eyes focused on Bellatrix instead.

The cruel witch jolted, slightly turning, hissing, "Greyback, see if that's  _the boy_."

As the werewolf's towering figure passed her, Hermione grew concerned that their discovery of Harry would be the end of them.

Mind racing with the imminent danger Harry was in, her thoughts were interrupted only by a sharp jabbing in her side as Bellatrix accused, "It was you! Meddling with that traitor house elf and  _stealing_ my nephew!"

Hermione glanced up at Draco again, somewhat expecting him to defend her, but he took no notice. He was right there, but she had never felt further away from him. Aside from her throbbing arm, the piercing of Bellatrix's wand into her neck, and even the threat of death looming over her friends, she was not fully prepared for him to abandon her.

There was a rippling growl, followed by Ron's shaking voice, "Stay back, you... mutt!"

Bellatrix pulled at Hermione, twisting them around toward the stairs where Harry and Ron both kept a stance against Greyback. Harry eyed Draco before his gaze switched to the large figure that leaned in toward him to find his scent.

Meanwhile, Hermione did her best to silently scan the room, peeking over, curious about the other silhouetted figure that had yet to come forth. As Draco positioned himself next to Bellatrix, Hermione was reminded that she was now closer to her wand. She stretched her leg out, barely reaching the tip of it before Bellatrix noticed her move and jerked her back. Hermione cried out, as the witch stomped her heel into her foot. "Be still, filth."

Hermione exhaled from the pain in her foot, her vision blurring with tears as Greyback stepped toward Harry to inspect him. Without anyone's notice, Ron must have moved closer, because just then, he boldly tackled Draco to the ground. Both boys grunted loudly once they slammed against the wood flooring, and Bellatrix stepped back, yanking Hermione with her to avoid them.

Ron pinned him almost instantly, awkwardly positioning his wand against Draco's neck, "Let Hermione go, or Malfoy dies!"

Hermione glanced up at Harry, furious at Ron for his actions,  _He left Harry to deal with Greyback alone?_

She swallowed hard, hoping Harry could come up with a plan, but she suspected his full concentration would be on the werewolf and whoever else might be in the room. She wanted to shout at Harry to Disapparate, to get out while he could, but she expected that he would never do such a thing even if she begged. In the chaos, Hermione saw a beam of light from the corner of her eye, shot from Ron's direction toward Harry. Then she heard a high-pitched yowl that reminded her of Fang in agony. A clattering sound followed shortly, similar to when her own wand fell, and it concerned her that it was Harry's. Again, Bellatrix yanked them both in another direction, and when she looked over to Harry, to her relief, he was the one standing over Greyback. Positioning his wand and preparing to hex him, the werewolf cowered on the lower steps.

Hermione heard Greyback snarl in retaliation as Harry stood on the steps above, shouting confidently, "Let. Her. Go."

Bellatrix screeched loudly in frustration, but Harry kept his wand aimed at Greyback, hastily side-stepping around him down to the main floor. Keeping his wand focused on the unarmed werewolf, he spoke so that all could hear, "It's too late, Bellatrix. Under the Imperius Curse, Draco has told us all of your secrets... and the Order knows  _everything_!"

There was shuffling on the floor as Ron forced Draco to stand, while Bellatrix twisted back and forth to assess her predicament, pulling Hermione along with her like a rag doll. She knew Harry had done his best to think fast, but now Hermione was concerned that this might cause the manic witch to kill them all.

Hermione could see Draco clearly now; he appeared annoyed, his nostrils flaring, his grimace latched onto his aunt.

Harry blurted, "A trade."

She felt Bellatrix's arm grip her tighter, sensing that Harry's suggestion had only aggravated her more.

Harry shouted louder, "A trade, or Malfoy dies!"

Following Harry's lead, Ron must have done something to make Draco moan painfully. Hermione's heart sank; she felt useless and out of control. It made her wonder if her friends would truly hex everyone, including Draco, if it came to it.

Bellatrix stomped her heel dramatically, and while being pressed harshly against her bony frame, it was chilling to actually feel the shriek that vibrated from her body. There was a second of quiet contemplation over Harry's negotiation, until Bellatrix groaned sharply, "Draco... is this true? The Imperius Curse?"

Draco did not initially respond, and Hermione guessed that Ron had struck him for it, as a moment later, she heard a moan of agony from him. Then, he finally seethed a simple, "Yes."

Bellatrix tutted against her teeth, harshly whispering, "So weak. You  _are_  your father's son."

Possibly concerned that all of this façade was not enough to sway Bellatrix into giving up Hermione, Draco's face altered as quick as the flicker of a candle's flame. His body sulked, appearing weak and pathetic as he whined, "Aunty, they  _tortured_  me... but the incompetent fools exposed their plans, and under the spell or not, I remember it all. We need to move fast."

Immediately, Draco's response followed by another gasp of pain, no doubt Ron's doing. Hermione shivered at the sudden and convincing alteration of Draco's character. Physical discomfort from her arm and chokehold aside, this made her feel truly ill. His voice was so believable that for a second, she questioned everything they had been through together. Her mind became frantic, emotions colliding with adverse memories of him: the resentment she felt when he had apprehended her wand at the tent, her suspicion of him searching the privacy of her purse, and the actual containment of her precious portkeys. Was  _that_  the true Draco? Perhaps he was stuck between worlds. Or maybe Harry was right, and he would always be a coward, forever taking the side of whoever was likely to win.

Immersed in her dreaded thoughts, she peeked up to Draco as if to find the truth in the details of his face. He only appeared ashamed, as Bellatrix bellowed a false empathetic groan in response to his whimpering plea, snorting in disbelief. Hermione's heart raced from the witch's reaction,  _She isn't going to buy this._  Was she not concerned by Ron's threats on Draco's life? What if they were all taken?

Ron pushed his wand harder into Draco's neck, causing Draco to moan loudly, "Aunty,  _please_! It's been awful!"

Bellatrix sneered, "Bring him closer."

Ron hesitated, glancing to Harry for approval, until Bellatrix dug her wand into Hermione's neck and she had to stifle a hiss of pain. This caused Ron to comply with the request, nudging Draco forward. He was so close Hermione could feel his shoe kick at hers, and wished she could get loose to grab him and Disapparate. Would Harry and Ron forgive her? Would they understand that either path was hopeless for him? Would they care?

Greyback's growl at Harry caused Hermione to flinch, but Bellatrix ignored it, spouting at Draco in disgust, "You  _must_  have been cursed, look at those filthy Muggle clothes.  _You_  would never stoop so low."

Hermione could feel Bellatrix's putrid breath heavy against her face, as if contemplating something. A second later, she felt a release on her grip, and a hard shove down to the floor.

"You Mudbloods aren't worth  _my_  time, but the Dark Lord  _will_  find you!"

Caught off guard by her sudden freedom, her body felt heavy and it took her a second to regain her bearings. A surge of adrenaline struck her, and she frantically felt around in the dark for her wand. A curdling snarl close to her made her breath hitch, and she recoiled at the thought of being next to Greyback, hoping Harry still had his wand trained on him. It was a relief when she finally located her wand, gripping it tightly and only just glancing up to witness Ron aggressively shoving Draco into his aunt. Behind her, there was a ferocious growl, and Hermione panicked to feel an arm wrap around her waist, imagining the large figure attacking her. She instantly deducted that it was Harry from his body frame, which was confirmed by the softness of his hand.

Guessing that Harry had jinxed Greyback in order to enable him to grab her, there was now shuffling from above as she tried to stand. A glimpse of Draco's blond hair was seen in the darkness, before she felt the weight of his body fall at her feet. Nearly standing, she was pushed back down as Bellatrix lunged past her for Harry. Her fingers tight around her wand, she mustered all the power she could in her state, and turned upward to send a hasty jinx at the witch's outstretched hand. There followed a loud screech that echoed through the air, and Hermione scrambled to stand in defense. Expecting Draco to get up as well, she strained her eyes to find him on the floor. She began to reach out for him, but someone from behind tugged her away... and a second later she Disapparated, her hand still searching for his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, this chapter was different from the rest, and needed some care... and by 'care' I mean more concentration and a hero of a beta; "Scientists have calculated that the chances of something so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one. But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten."― Terry Pratchett
> 
> Thank you as always HeartOfAspen, and thank the Gods for such magical calculations... how else could I have found you?


	27. Repossession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was a mood/tone for Draco before this chapter began, I would use this song for dramatic effect :P (otherwise I think it could fit other dark Dramoine fanfics)  
> Theory of a Deadman: Wicked Games (remake)  
> Video: https://youtu.be/h3itLccui18

Draco’s knees dug into the floor while his eyes fixed on the empty space where the echo of Hermione’s presence still lingered. He did not have a moment to mourn, however. Realizing his hand was still hovering for hers, he quickly lowered it just as Bellatrix began her fit. She sent an onslaught of hexes at the space where the trio had Disapparated. Her war with the bottom step of the stairs seemed to last forever; Draco could feel the heat of her spells as they sparked against the wood.

He stood cautiously, taking a few steps back to avoid his aunt’s wrath, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out her high-pitched screeching that echoed throughout the house. He began to grind his teeth, opening his eyes only to  fix his stare at his aunt’s black-heeled boots, mind flashing back a day when Hermione had mentioned needing a pair of heels. How anyone could stomach polyjuicing into Bellatrix was beyond him. He would not blame Hermione if she chose a different plan to get into Gringotts, especially now. 

As if it would help, he tried to think back on what he could have done better when he had witnessed Hermione’s throat being throttled by Bellatrix. He exhaled; though it had been a subconscious choice in the heat of the moment to give himself up, it was actually one of the plans he had initially suggested to Hermione back in the tent. She’d had serious reservations at the time, only agreeing to it as he had scribbled it onto the last line of their parchment, while insisting it would never come to that. Draco mused bitterly, it appeared that most things in his life always came to  _ that _ .

In an attempt to hold himself together, Draco reflected on heartfelt words Hermione had said to him, until he noted his aunt’s screams begin to diffuse. The bottom of the stairwell was hollowed out, the edges burnt to a cinder, and concluded that it had been the right choice to let her go. Hermione was safe now. 

Once Bellatrix had finally stopped hexing the step, a dwindling scream turned into a rumbling command, "No one speaks of this!" She glanced back and forth between Draco and Greyback, as if daring one of them to try it. 

Draco stared up at his aunt, watching as her deep breathing caused a strand of hair to flutter in front of her face. It was eerily delicate, considering the orange hue of morning light that was illuminating the madness in her eyes.

 

Swallowing hard, he slowly turned to witness the bulk of Greyback struggling to stand. 

Reluctantly, Draco stood, gripping his wand as he turned his attention to the third, unidentified figure, which had remained hidden and quiet. Glancing around, he found a shadow, though there was nothing for it to cast from. The early light curiously streamed onto the floor where it lay. Winding down from her tantrum, Bellatrix let out a huff; Draco peeked over at her, and found she was already watching him intensely. She must have understood what he was thinking, because she waved her hand in the direction of the shadow, and it suddenly vanished. 

Draco clenched his jaw as it disappeared. It had been a farce: his aunt had only been with Greyback. Feeling sick, he was immediately regretting his choice, his thoughts recreating the recent events.  _ We outnumbered them. I should have fought… I could be with her. _

Gripping his wand as he turned to hide his thoughts away from Bellatrix, he prepared to Disapparate, until he felt her nails tickle across his shoulder. There was a swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach, like when he flew his broom too steep toward the ground. His aunt was so close, he wanted to cringe at the breath of foul air from her lungs. The small hairs in his ear began to tingle as she ominously whispered, "You better have something  _ good  _ to report, nephew." 

Draco stood frozen, blood draining from his face from her assertion. He had not expected to return to the manor. A panic rose within him and he began to create a series of escape plans. He needed to gain some space between them, or perhaps hex both of them when their backs were turned. Until then, he had to play the part, which was difficult to do while Bellatrix gave him so little room to think. 

“You’re lucky to have me, nephew. That foolish Imperius Curse must have broken upon my arrival. I’m happy to see my hexes are working as planned.”

Draco was momentarily confused, while his nervous mind tried to put together her meaning. Attempting to leave no trace of misunderstanding, he kept his eyes to the floor until it came to him; Bellatrix had presumed that her curse on Hermione had caused him to snap out of the so-called Imperius Curse. He looked up then, realizing that Potter’s lie had saved him. What else did she believe? He would have to bring back his mental map of lies, the weight of it returning from it’s brief respite with Hermione. 

As Bellatrix continued to pace around him, he quickly stored his thoughts away. Draco could feel her anger continuing to linger,  “I knew I should have taught you to oppose an Imperius! But no, Cissy had to coddle you…” She furiously spat at Draco’s feet as she puffed out, “Potions... what good are they?” 

Draco dreaded his aunt’s lengthy rants about potion-making, as she tediously prattled on about their frivolity. To her, it was never as important as learning true dark magic. Following her escape from Azkaban, it had always been a sore point within his family, but particularly when Severus was invited to dine. Narcissa would lecture her sister on not pestering their guests with brash opinions, but Bellatrix was hardly someone to tame. 

A bit of acid had risen into the back of Draco’s throat at the idea of returning to the manor. His eyes flickered up to the den that had served as his bedroom for a short time, while Bellatrix continued to banter on about how useless potions would be in a battle. All she achieved with her speech, was reminding him of his emergency bag. If there was a chance for him to escape, he would need it. 

He cooly turned away from her, beginning to make his way toward the den, when she abruptly reappeared in his path, “Where are you off to?”

Draco lifted his head to face her. It was only then that he noticed they were the same height. In the handful of years he had known his aunt, he had always felt smaller, but now, even with her heels, he found his eyes were level with hers.

“Why the concern, Aunty? You did not seem too particular only moments ago.” It was the only way he could think to show his disdain: to appear offended by her having dropped him to the floor to make a grab for Potter.

He stepped to the side to walk around her, but she followed close behind, “Draco! How dare you. Would you have me go against the Dark Lord’s orders?” 

Draco stepped into the den, quickly grabbing his bag and slinging the strap over his head and across his body.

Bellatrix studied him, “You have a bag?”

Draco began to feel warm, and quickly came up with an explanation, “Yes, I was holding it when… she took me.”

He did his best to only make brief eye contact with his aunt, for fear that she would see through him, or cast a Legilimency spell. He did not want to give her further reason to inquire, so he quickly changed the subject.

“How is mother?” he queried, turning to walk back into the living room. Greyback was still standing in the same spot, lifting his shirt to inspect a wound, which Draco guessed had been Potter’s doing. “How long was I gone?”

“Cissy is well enough. You’ve been gone nearly two months.” He could hear her heels clap against the wood floor until she was close behind him. He wanted to step away, anywhere, just to Disapparate. “We all wondered where you had gone. Your parents were punished twice for losing you.”

Abruptly, Draco paused, turning to his aunt. His heart sank,  _ Punished? _ But Bellatrix did not seem to care.

“Greyback,” she called, waving her hand flippantly. “Be a good pet and return him.”

Draco’s heart began to race. He’d had a shallow plan, at best, when he had decided to give himself up; he would have to think quickly to survive the Dark Lord's wrath. Glancing over to the table in front of the fireplace, he remembered the Order’s procedures Hermione had followed when leaving a safehouse. He did not expect he would be able to place a note on the table with a fork instead of a spoon, though, without the others questioning what he was doing. Glancing to the stairwell, he concluded that the blackened steps would have to suffice.

Noting that his personal space had suddenly been invaded by the stench of dog breath, he cringed when he felt the heat of it against the back of his neck. There was an uncomfortable squeeze around his arm, and without any other warning, he was Disapparated away from the safehouse.

. . . 

A second later, Draco plummeted roughly to the ground, sending a sharp pain through his back. Greyback hardly seemed to care, as he stood right over him. Propelling himself back from being right under the werewolf’s legs, Draco quickly stood to regain his bearings. He had been transported beside a familiar-looking tree, large and gnarled, which he recognized from his childhood as a barrier marker when his mother had used to insist he stay within the boundaries of the manor. The tree appeared dreary and unkept when compared with those that sat on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. His father used to tell him that it was full of doxies and they would attack him if he ever left the manor grounds. Now, he prefered to take his chances with the doxies. 

A ‘pop’ near him signaled Bellatrix’s arrival. She always insisted on Apparating alone. Draco often suspected that she was up to something, though her excuse was that someone was likely to splinch her. Perhaps, he thought, the idea did hold some merit that someone might do this purposely, seeing as it had crossed his own mind more than once. 

She began to strut onto the manor grounds; Draco caught sight of a small glimmer as she entered, meaning there was still some sort of boundary spell in place. He felt a shove from behind, forcing him to step forward. Trying not to show his aversion in returning, Draco kept his eyes ahead and his expression blank.

Bellatrix spoke loudly, never even looking back at him,  "I can't wait to hear what you’ve discovered, Draco. The Dark Lord will be pleased."

There was a tightening in his throat at the thought of seeing Voldemort. Trying to contain himself, he needed to be convincing, to play the part. His mind rebelled, sending small flashes of Hermione and the tent to the forefront of his mind. In an effort to prepare himself, he straightened out his shirt, when a small object bobbled against his fingers. The medallion. 

He looked up and around, as if to be caught with it before quickly remembering that it was invisible. Had Hermione got his last message? He sent it hastily when the attacks began, nearly forgetting what jumbled message his mind conjured onto the medallion. It was redundant now. He knew he should send another. 

Bellatrix abruptly stopped and turned to him. He quickly dropped his hand to his side. “Did you not hear me?”

Draco studied her, trying to remember the last thing she had said. “Yes, Aunty.” 

“Well?”

“Yes, I have things to report.” 

She stood looking over him, her face turned to disgust as she scanned his front, reaching for something. His heart raced. Could she see the necklace? He stood as still as possible, wondering which direction would be best to run?

Draco inhaled as she pulled at the front of his cotton shirt. “You’ll have to change.”  She turned away and continued to walk; he let out his breath. “And burn those rags.”

Greyback nudged him forward again, snapping Draco out of his gazing at the dewdrops on the morning grass.  _ Focus _ , he chastised himself. 

The dark stone of the manor appeared in view, though he remembered the walk being further from the edge of the grounds... perhaps it had felt that way only because he used to see it as a home. He sped up to keep pace next to Bellatrix, who tilted her head to glance at him. He did not look back at her, despite feeling as if maybe he should, to keep up the pretence of their previous relationship, but it was now difficult for him after everything she had done to Hermione.

He never had any confrontations with his aunty, not directly. In the few years he had known her, she took it upon herself to be his mentor, to make up for his parents’ so-called deficiency. 

At first he was amused by her outrageous acts, and it was thrilling to hear what brave and daring things Aunty Bellatrix had done this time. Now, he viewed her nefarious behavior as cruel and demented. It made him sick to be related to her, and he was simultaneously thankful that his mother had turned out differently. 

The clicking of her heels against the slate filled him with dread as they approached the entrance to the gates.  He had already abandoned this place; it was surreal to be here again, appearing darker than he remembered, though perhaps it was only his imagination. He had never noticed the edges of the elaborately decorated stone plant holders before. They used to be covered with blooming black hellebore, his mother’s favorite. They now resembled large ashtrays, making him think that perhaps his mother was unwell, since she was usually very assertive in maintaining her home. Bellatrix’s words echoed in his mind,  _ Punished twice _ ...

The gates creaked loudly when Greyback opened them, and Draco followed every step Bellatrix took up to the manor. He heard a distant sound and turned to see other Death Eaters walking the same path up to the manor. Some of them he did not recognize from before. Were they recent recruits?

Bellatrix gestured, intuitively answering Draco’s unspoken questions, “Those are the other Death Eaters… pathetic, the lot of them. Speaking of... Greyback off with you.”

The werewolf snorted loudly, stopping short of the heavy gothic doors Bellatrix opened. Draco guessed that his aunt either did not want to be seen with her henchman, or that she intended to go somewhere he was unwelcome. 

Just then, he felt the medallion alert him of a new message, and his heart began to race. He glanced over to Bellatrix, concerned that she might have heard the small buzzing, or that the protective enchantments on the manor would have him surrounded by wands in an instant. Steadily attempting to ignore the small alert until he had the chance, he tried to decide where Bellatrix could be leading him. He needed to focus on what to say to the Dark Lord, rather than Hermione. In fact, he needed to forget about Hermione, if that were possible. It would only be safer for both of them.

Once they were inside the manor, he could hear echoing conversations from distant rooms, along with a permeating sense of dark purpose. Bellatrix led him away from it all, and they entered a smaller staircase which was never used by guests. Where was the Dark Lord? Had he taken over their private quarters?  

Remaining in step with his aunt, Draco’s mind filled with more preferable memories of his home. There was a scent he had noticed upon entering, but it was nothing he recognized, though the family’s private quarters still contained lingering perfumes worn by his parents. His father’s cologne that had a mix of  vetiver and cedarwood, that mingled with his mother’s heliotrope perfume;  these were now imbued into the tapestries, and possibly even the carpeting. He had once attempted to recreate their favorite smells in his potions lab, and failed miserably. In the end, he made up his own, deciding on jasmine and vanilla. He had never suspected it would have been a part of Hermione’s Amortentia results...

Once again, he attempted to shake the thought of her from his mind, altogether imagining this task would be the most difficult he had ever experienced. He had to hide his sentiments toward her before, but now it was different. Now he was aware of their shared affections. He was in love, and he wanted nothing more than to keep her where she belonged, filling every corner of his thoughts. 

But no, for her own safety, he had to banish her from his mind. This was no place for hopeful thinking, he needed to strategize. Bellatrix was a few steps in front of him now, and he surveyed the empty hall, wondering if there were new enchantments set here.  He wanted to quietly step away, down the stairs, past the gates, and dart back toward the doxy-ridden tree. Perhaps if he had his broom. 

Looking down the hall, he tried to calculate how long it would take him to get there. He continued to collect hopeful ideas of escape,  until Bellatrix slowed her pace, approaching a dark green door with etchings of two intertwining snakes. Their bodies were decoratively knotted together, both consuming each other’s tails. It was his mother’s chamber door.

He stared at it nervously. There were small singe marks on parts of the door, and he remembered how his mother tried to burn the image away, usually after his parents had a row. He always wondered why she hated it so much, and what type of spell would not allow the changing of the image. 

Remembering it was morning, he was surprised Bellatrix had led them here, as Narcissa only retired to her bedroom at night. Her life was usually busy with social events, or with some task in one of the multitude of other rooms she had claimed for herself. Draco could not leave now, he knew, not while being so close to her. For a moment, he wondered why she had not left when she had the chance, before dwelling on what the punishments were that she had endured from his absence.

He knew his mother to be clever; if there had been a way out, he guessed she would have taken it. That, or she chose to stay for his father, who had his head in so deep up the Dark Lord’s arse that he would never abandon his charge. That, and his pride. This was his family home after all, and Narcissa would have developed her own sense of honor in living there, reminding him of it when he cursed the manor after the Dark Lord had taken over. 

Bellatrix tapped her long, sharp nails on the door, and Draco noticed small tick marks she left upon the dark wood, "Oh, Cissy, I have a present for youuuu."

Draco’s heart began to palpitate. Despite having just mentally run through a list of ways to escape this place, it occurred to him that he could not wait to see his mother. He was curious about her health, and was nervous that she would be furious he had returned after she had risked her life to save him.

He waited, anticipating any type of noise at the door to signal her presence. Without any other notice, the door suddenly creaked and Draco strained his eyes to see through the small opening. Bellatrix quickly grabbed his arm, thrusting him forward, "Oh, Cissy, you’re up. Look what I found."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> Beta thanks to HeartOfAspen. How you have carved out precious time in your busy life, to edit this story, still blows my mind. This does not even 'crack my top five' things I am actually thinking, to express my gratitude. :) . Also, don't forget to let me know what you think down below!


	28. Persist

Hermione landed roughly, sending a piercing pain to her shoulder. She guessed they were outside from the cool air and the glow of a distant lamp post. Straining her eyes in the dark, she discovered where Harry and Ron were by the sounds of their faint groaning. Getting up too fast, it felt as if the blood had drained from her head, while her legs were wobbly at best. Holding her arms out for balance, she accidentally hit something cold and rough in the dark and flinched in surprise. After discovering it was merely a brick wall, she lowered her wand.

Harry got to his feet, leaning his hands on his knees, then reached over to Ron to give him a hand. "Sorry, we had to get out of there."

Ron grunted as he stood, pushing back his hair and looking around. "Diagon Alley?"

Harry stood up straight, explaining, "Right, well, the mission."

Judging from the foul stench of rubbish, they were near the back of some establishment. There was a hint of ammonia Hermione picked up on, so it seemed likely that blokes had relieved themselves there as well. Hermione concluded that they must have landed behind a pub. Though, with limited vision, she sensed that the area appeared devoid of anyone at the moment.

Hesitantly, Harry looked over at Hermione and she only glanced back at him, recalling the plans they had intended for the next day. She truly wanted to be her old self, ready to take on the next mission, but she was filled with the emptiness of leaving Draco behind. It was difficult to accept that she was actually in a different location from him, robbed of the opportunity to at least say goodbye. He had been so impassive in front of Bellatrix, fused into his role, that she truly feared that he had become his façade.

Ron took a few steps toward her, his attention focused on her arm. "You're bleeding..."

She looked down at her forearm, to the scar Bellatrix had carved. Blood was smeared across her skin and her shirt, while the wound continued to steadily ooze. The ache from her jammed shoulder, thankfully not splinched, was small compared with the immense burning of the scar. Emotionless and drained, she cast a scouring charm on her skin, aware that Ron's eyes were on her. "It's... fine."

"Hermione-"

At the feeling of his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, she quickly pulled away, unable to read his expression in the dark alley.

He trailed off defensively, "Right..."

Harry chimed in, "Shops are still closed."

There was an awkwardness, wherein the boys seemed not to know what to do, like they were waiting for Hermione to collect herself and lead the way. All she wanted was a break, to reflect on what had just happened, but Harry was intent on their mission, and she knew he was right. She was still hanging on to her last seconds with Draco, her thoughts weighing heavily on what would happen to him now. Would Bellatrix discover her own nephew was a traitor, and hex him as well? It occurred to her then, that she really did not know the details of Draco's relationship with his aunt. The thought that she and Bellatrix might share a similar admiration for Draco made bile creep up in the back of her throat.

Reaching for her shoulder to rub at the pain, she felt around her neck for the medallion, quickly casting a  _lumos_. Certainly he would have left a message, she reasoned, considering that Draco had done so when he had merely gone to collect firewood back at the tent. She fumbled with the chain, turning slightly away from the boys for privacy, the message she found there had clearly been sent right as Bellatrix had arrived. It read: - _plan-C-_

She huffed, trying not to burst into tears. The two of them had come up with such a long list of potential plans; they  _could_  have done that one. Why had they not just Apparated separately to the appointed meeting place? If she had actually read his message... Instead, he had been forced to choose the last resort in their long list of plans, giving himself up. However, it was a relief to see a message at all, considering her last encounter with him had been hollow.

There was an echo of footsteps passing, and Ron grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows, chastising in a harsh whisper, "Put out your wand!"

Quickly she cast a  _nox_ , altogether reminded of what magic she should be casting at all.

Crammed into a nook of a building, the three of them shied away from the light of a nearby street lamp, tucking back into the shadows. Hermione's senses finally caught up to her. She felt a chill from the damp air, and her adrenaline spiked at the idea of who exactly they were hiding from. There was so much uncertainty now. Perhaps Bellatrix had followed them there?

Eventually, to their relief, the footsteps carried on, echoing down the cobbled street. Harry broke the silence, "The safe houses were compromised. They must have an inside person."

Ron snorted, "I'll give you one guess... seen any snakes lately?"

"The first safe house was compromised  _before_ Draco and I got there, remember?" Hermione chastised in a whisper. Pushing away from the brick and the warmth of her friends, she began to pace and think. "Your note was not there, and  _he_  took the serum I made,  _Ronald_."

Ron stepped closer to her, and she was only able to see part of his face from the hue of the street light. He was shaking his head, ready to respond, but she would not have his petty remarks, not now, not after what had just happened.

"He just saved us! Do you  _really_  think he wants to go  _back_?"

Ron responded matter-of-factly, "Yeah, why not, it's his place."

Taking a step forward, Harry whispered, "Ron..."

Hermione shook her head. This was not going to happen, they did not have time for Ron's idea of where Draco Malfoy belonged in this war. Unaware that she was gripping the medallion in her fist, she found Harry's eyes staring at her hand.

Clearing her throat, not in the mood to explain the only connection she had with Draco now, she changed the subject. "It was good of you to take us here, Harry, since Bellatrix is with Draco... it's highly unlikely she's here."

Ron appeared to be murmuring to Harry, contradicting her comment, "You mean  _more_  likely, since he's involved."

Hermione tried to hold it together. Ron had never been one for optimism under such intense circumstances, but she did not want to feed his rant, so she tried to focus on their next steps.

Thankfully, Harry appeared to join her side, "No, he won't. He could have given us away when he was with Hermione, or in the whole day he was at the safe house."

"You're barmy, mate." Ron began to walk past Hermione, scoffing at his friends' shared thoughts on Draco's allegiance. "Bloody brilliant, Malfoy has you both where he wants you."

Hermione was unable to keep her calm. Besides what the hell did Ron know about Draco anymore? Defensively, her voice raised an octave in her stress, "And where is that, Ronald? He's not even here. We're not captured. How on earth can you imagine that he's 'got' us?"

Ron paused, turning so that he stood directly under the street lamp now. It was clear he could not put it into words, his mood possibly clouding his thought process. Turning away from them, Hermione heard a small stream of liquid trickling down a brick wall.

Hermione glanced to Harry in disgust, loudly whispering, "Ron!"

She heard him mumble something about being woken up abruptly, and it was only then that Hermione realized they were still underdressed for Diagon Alley. The sun was already beginning to reflect off the tops of buildings. Deciding to ignore any further thought that might come into Ron's mind, she turned to Harry. "It's too early for Gringotts."

He adjusted his glasses, stepping toward her. "Hermione, we don't-"

"We're doing this. Logically, it's our best chance."

For a second, she panicked, remembering they needed the lock of hair and potion to pull this off. "My purse-"

She looked up at Harry urgently, but heard Ron's voice, "It's here."

Turning to look back at where he was, she found he was adjusting his pants while looking down at something, and she could just make out the shape of her purse. She suspected it must have flung out of her grip after landing. Ron stepped toward it, picking it up as she made her way to him. As he reached out to hand it to her, she looked up to him in thanks, and there was a moment where they were back to their old selves again, friends.

They needed to be in that head space now, along with all the trust between them, like old times. He reached out for her forearm, to her scar, and even in the semi-light they could both see that it had stopped bleeding.

"I think this is the reason she found us, not Draco." Bewildered, Ron looked up at her. She could not make eye contact out of guilt that it had probably been her that had led Bellatrix and Greyback into the safe house. "I think the curse she has on me broke the protection spells."

She could hear Harry approaching, and she turned to acknowledge him, to let him in on the details.

"Harry, the Imperius curse... that was brilliant." They all hovered close, in a small circle under the street light, staring at her scar for a good minute. Then she looked up at Ron to acknowledge, "Actually, attacking Draco was decently clever as well..."

Ron huffed, "Easiest bit."

The warm light of the street lamp blinked out, causing each of them to look around furtively. The sunlight that had begun to creep onto the cobblestones of the alley only reminded them of the looming danger in their mission ahead.

Hermione tugged on Harry's pajama sleeve. "Right, well, let's see if I have anything for you to change into."

She turned to focus on her purse, nearly  _Accio_ -ing for clothing, but her paranoia made her pause. There was no way of knowing what would be traced, and they needed to find updated information about what magic was being tracked. She looked down at the medallion around her neck, and was thankful that it was not likely to be discovered if its mere existence was to hide its magical properties for the sake of communication.

Still turned from the boys, she pretended to be searching through her purse as she quickly twirled the letters, hoping that her brief message would make it to Draco, though they had not tested it from this distance before.

Concerned and eager, she stared at the letters, waiting until it gave a soft glow after a few seconds. Briefly relieved, her next thoughts punched her heart with a spike of adrenaline. All she had to do now, was break into a bank disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. And not just any bank, Gringotts.

The mumbling of Harry to Ron broke her trance on the medallion and she quickly rummaged through her bag for some decent clothes, purposefully not revealing that some had belonged to Draco. Her shoulder stung when tossing some clothes at her friends. Just then she realized that her legs were actually quite fine, recalling that she was nearly unable to stand when Bellatrix had a hold on her. Pausing from digging inside her purse, it came to her attention that maybe Draco's potions had not only healed her, but protected her as well. Had he created something to counter her curses?

Hermione found a fresh shirt for herself, and in her train of thought on pain, she noticed a stitch in her abdomen. She brushed it aside as possible cramps, but then paused, nearly dropping the shirt she was holding.

Was that possible?

She thought back, to right before she and her friends had gone on the run, preceding Bill and Fleur's wedding. Mrs. Weasley had taken her and Ginny aside for a chat. In all of the uprising, the concerned mother had thought it best to enchant her and Ginny with a spell, a particular one that had gained popularity in the last wizarding war. Apparently this type of contraceptive spell was more unique than the usual... stronger, perhaps. Hermione had heard of such spells, but did not understand the difference between them.

Mrs. Weasley had spoken softly, her hands on each of their shoulders, with a reassuring smile, "This will only twinge a bit."

Hermione and Ginny barely nodded before Mrs. Weasley guided Ginny to sit down. She knelt in front of Ginny, placing both her hands over her womb. Mrs. Weasley closed her eyes, and cast a spell using words Hermione did not recognize.

The fact that contraception was needed, even without the intention of having intercourse by choice, only put more fear into Hermione's mind. She wished there was a spell to repel such an act from happening at all, and was relieved when Mrs. Weasley did not ask any questions regarding her virginity. It would have been particularly awkward, considering she and Ron were nearly involved.

That felt like ages ago. Back when being embarrassed by her friend's mother was the height of her fears. Now, she would be grateful to be at the Weasleys, discussing any number of relatively humiliating topics.

Hermione pressed against her stomach. She had not told Draco any of this. Things had moved so fast between them, the initial focus on his alliances, and then their infatuation had distracted her. She had completely forgotten that she'd had a protective spell placed over her. A series of thoughts clouded her mind.  _Does it wear off after a particular time? Would there have been signs when it did?_

She closed her eyes to focus. This was just a stitch from the pull of Apparation, that was it. Attempting to settle, she quickly calculated in her mind to when she last had any sort of cramps. None, not for months. As she tried to sum up the days, they began to blur together...

She stared at the clean shirt still in her hands, gripping it tightly in her fist when Harry's voice cut into her worries. "Hermione, when you're ready."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates! Life stuff, am I right?  I really want to keep going, so, no abandonment here, promise. As you can see I will be in and out of chapters between Draco and Hermione. Maybe not for long, we'll see :)   Thank you as usual HeartOfAspen for all the beta work, and officially sticking with this for over a year!  


	29. Disparities

As Narcissa fumbled with the door handle, Bellatrix impatiently stepped in, catching her sister as if it was to be expected. Failing to be of assistance, Draco gazed at the woman Bellatrix had propped up to stand. If it had not been for the color of her eyes, he would have guessed his mother was a ghost. Her pale blonde hair rippled down her back, and he could see the outline of her spine through her white nightgown.

Bellatrix did not appear concerned with her sister’s fragility, instead gripping her arm tight and hissing into her ear, “Enough with the hysterics, Cissy.”

But Narcissa did not respond, her sleepy gaze remained distant even to his presence.

Bellatrix wrenched her chin, forcing it to face him, “Look, I told you I would make it right, didn’t I?”

Before he could prepare, Bellatrix had nudged Narcissa into Draco and he swiftly stepped forward to catch his mother.

“Draco?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing prepared in response, never expecting to see her in such a state. His mother’s hand skimmed his cheek and it was cool and shaky, just as he remembered his grandmother’s to be. Before making an attempt to speak, Bellatrix chimed, "You have ten minutes, nephew. Then we see the Dark Lord.” Grinning, she closed in on Draco, “He’ll want to know all about your little adventure.”

He kept his gaze veiled, nodding to Bellatrix submissively, eager for her to leave. Behind him, there was a click of the door and he tried to think of something to say as he studied the stranger in his arms. She looked exhausted, her hair tousled as if she had been flying, though he could not remember the last time she had used her broom.

As he guided her to sit, grasping her hand tight, he noticed the edges of the bones in her fingers… fingers that had once been seen as young and graceful. Had she aged? But he had not been away that long… What had happened while he was gone?

“Mother-”

She flinched slightly at the grip of his hand, and he quickly loosened his hold. Only then did he notice the scars that littered her skin, and he paused to inspect them. Defensively, she pulled her arm away, taking a step to turn and sit down on the side of the bed. Clearing some errant wisps of hair away from her face, Narcissa folded her hands together. “My darling, what have you been up to?”

Draco shifted, glancing around the room for a reality check. Her demeanor implied that he was simply returning home from Hogwarts for the summer.

“Draco.” She reached out to his arm as if to console him. “Why have you returned?”

Draco shook his head, feeling the prick of tears behind his eyes at the state of her. All the self-doubt he had over leaving his mother behind had been confirmed in this reunion. Overall, he did not want to give details to his escape, aside from his guilt, he should be blocking those memories so that they could not be seen by the Dark Lord.

Filled with regret on leaving her behind, he tried to hold himself together, pacing slightly to think. As if to block out his surroundings, he folded his hands behind his neck, feeling the pressure of Bellatrix’s allotted time frame. Shortly, his hands began to slip from the sweat on his neck, releasing his grip, blurting out, “What happened to you? Was it because-”

“Draco, I’m relieved to see you safe. Are you staying? I’ll have them repair your room...”

Draco paused to scan the woman before him, trying to find a trace of his mother. Was he staying? As if he could suddenly come and go? Could he? No. He could not just wander off, it could not be that easy.

The manner of her offer made him suspect that her mind was not aware of their current state of reality. Was she disillusioned, or had she just wakened from a slumber, briefly forgetting their circumstances? With a glance at the east window, it was clearly mid-morning and Narcissa had historically been an early riser. These clues added to his notion that she was not merely waking up.

There were things in her room that gave it the appearance of neglect, such as a plate of uneaten food with a paper serviette placed over it or her unmade bed. Then he happened to notice her wand, settled in a special holder above her nightstand. He could not help but observe a small film of dust accumulating along the top of it. How could that be? Come to think of it, he had never seen a wand covered in dust before.

He decided to take a seat next to her on the bed, the weight of his body sinking into the mattress, emulating his circumstances, “You said, repair my room? Did you mean prepare?”

Narcissa continued to stare in another direction. “They have been using spare rooms for... other purposes...” She glanced over at him. “But surely he will permit yours to be restored.”

Draco did not fully understand her meaning, assuming that ‘he’ must have meant Lord Voldemort. He quickly debated what to ask her next. Usually, he did not push his mother for an explanation when she was not forthcoming, because it often meant that it was something he’d prefer not to know about. Dark magic consumed the manor, and this room alone had an unsettling amount of ominous implications. Because of Bellatrix’s scant time limit, he would have to accept what his mother was currently willing to give.

He turned to her, resting his hands over hers. “Mother, I need information. What happened when I left? What does he think happened?”

Draco studied her eyes as if he could extract information from her reaction, until she finally replied, “Everyone thinks you were stolen by Dobby, same as your school-mates."

Draco then stood, beginning to pace again. At least he had an alibi that the Dark Lord might accept, but he needed more distraction, something to gain his trust. What could he use besides the actual truth of horcrux hunting? It had to be something useful, and partially true, in case they had him take a potion or some other compelling power.

He froze to hear the soft inquiry from his mother, “Is she… safe?”

Draco quickly turned to face her, and though he would have been delighted to discuss certain details of his life-altering experiences with Hermione Granger, he needed her far from his thoughts, for everyone’s safety.

Draco nodded and whispered, “Yes, thank you.”

With that small bit of news, his mother adjusted herself to sit up better, but there was something awkward in the simple task. Reflecting on moments ago when she had needed help to stand, he glanced to her legs. They appeared to be dangling lifelessly under her thin white gown.

“Mother, can you move your legs?”

She appeared uncomfortable with that line of questioning, so she reached for her robe that lay over the crumpled sheets of her bed and quickly slipped it through her arms. Using the extra fabric at the bottom of her robe, she flung it over her legs. “Draco, you must concentrate. We can discuss such things later.” She looked him up and down, scrutinizing his wardrobe. “You need to change.”

Though he had a profound concern over her condition, her redirect was stronger, playing upon his fears of approaching the Dark Lord. Looking down at himself, he needed to purge the Muggle clothing, especially in his precarious position.

“I’ll call for a maid.”

“Maid?” Draco queried. “Not a house elf?”

Draco’s mother arched slightly behind her to pull on a silk rope that dangled from the ceiling. Turning to face forward again, she kept her eyes away from his. “Due to Dobby’s insolence, the other house elves have been… eradicated.”

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. Eradicated?

He could never remember a prominent wizarding family going without a house elf. This set the scene for how far the Dark Lord was willing to go. Draco needed a better lie, and he abruptly sat down on his mother’s green velvet chaise at the end of her bed, his head falling into the palms of his hands.

No, he could not reveal anything about the horcrux hunting. What if the Dark Lord knew? Draco wished he had asked more questions about this topic when he was with Hermione. Could he make more horcruxes?

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned, surprised his mother had managed to stand. “They will be watching you, Draco.”

Draco looked up to his mother and then to the ceiling in despair, nodding to confirm what she was telling him. Her hand grazed across his back and she took a seat next to him on the chaise.

“Do you remember your Occlumency lessons?”

Draco looked back at her. “Yes.”

“Good. You will need them.”

Draco made an effort to hold in his emotions, but his mind was swirling with theories as to how his mother had attained her state. So, he had to ask, “Did you… need it?”

She looked down, staring at her hands as she traced a scar on her wrist. “Yes. Yes, I did.” Holding her head high, he now recognized his mother. “And had I not, I wouldn’t be here with you now.” There was a moment of silence, until Narcissa’s presence grew stronger, “Right.”

She threaded her arm through his, pulling him closer to her frail body.

“First, you will remember to keep yourself hidden. Then, you will believe your own story.”

Draco nodded, it reminded him of when he had struggled with arithmancy and wanted to quit. His mother was able to give him perspective, as well as the advice to convince himself that he was already brilliant at it, even though he was struggling.

“Remember, the appearance of greatness is merely an illusion, allowing us to transform into what it is we need to be.”

He sniffed dryly, glancing in her direction. It felt as if they had never left that moment over a year ago, when she had said the very same thing to give him the courage to fix the vanishing cabinet.

So, he did what he had done then: he revealed to his mother the main problem, so that she could help him conjure an illusion of loyalty to the Dark Lord. “I need to give him information.”

“Yes, no doubt Bellatrix will be bragging about her find. Nagini has more decorum.”

There was no questioning mother’s bitterness toward her sister, though she had never usually been so obvious about it. For a moment, he reflected on his aunt and how she liked to give people up to prove her devotion. It gave him an idea, even if it was weak at best. “Maybe I’ll tell him that I came across blood traitors, someone on the inside.”

Eager for his mother’s approval, he turned his head to see her reaction, and it gave him pleasure to see her eyes light up. “Yes, that may do. Play upon his paranoia. He has plenty of that these days. Just the other day, he chose a Death Eater at random to interrogate.”

Draco stared at the carpet, concentrating on where to begin.

He was distracted by his mother’s whisper, “Purebloods will be sacrificed, at his own hand.”

Draco looked up at her, curious as to what she had meant, only to find her lips curving into a faint smile.

“Draco, to convince the Dark Lord of your loyalty, you will have to befriend certain people, get close to them... be them.”

Draco’s heart sank. This was exactly what he had run away from.

Sensing his dread, she gripped his arm tighter. “We can do this, knock out the players. Start with the worst of them.” Narcissa placed her other hand on Draco’s arm. “Look, darling, we must try.”

“Will you be with me?”

Narcissa's body altered, sitting up slightly. “I will do what I can. Now that you are back, there’s hope.”

He still had so many questions, but there was the heavy pressure of time, and soon Bellatrix would return. Just as in the past, his mother sensed his anxiety and tried to paint a picture of what was likely to happen.

“The biggest step right now is to convince the Dark Lord of your allegiance. Accomplish that and they are likely to assign you a mission. You’re a Death Eater now…” She paused, and it was clear that it was still difficult for her to accept that her own son had this ranking title. Clearing her throat, she continued, “These missions are more like a hunt for blood traitors.” She sat up slightly, side-eying Draco. “Your missions are where we determine who the blood traitors will be.”

She looked to the door again, and he understood. Though he hoped there would be time to pick apart the worst of the Death Eaters, and accuse them of false accusations. He remembered his father’s perpetual stress under the Dark Lord’s scrutiny, especially on the subject of loyalty. He did not exactly want to ask, but he thought it was the polite thing to do, since he hadn’t already. “How is father?”

Narcissa sighed. “The Dark Lord places immense pressure on him, appoints him impossible tasks.” She paused, her mouth hung open as if to say more, but she stopped herself. Instead, she reached up for his face, the tip of her finger grazing his chin. “He will be delighted by the news of your return.”

Draco quickly looked away, dismissing her claim, preferring the truth.

"Draco, I know your relationship with your father has changed. With the Dark Lord under our roof, he has not been himself, you must consider this.” She placed her hands in her lap, her voice lowering, “He doesn't know about what I've done. That remains between us."

Draco looked back to his mother, hoping his secret would not harm her any further. At one time, his father was someone he could rely on for help, but Draco grew exhausted of failing him so often. There were now two people in this world he could trust, but the worst part of it was that both of them, he concluded, had suffered his aunt’s wrath due to his own lack of bravery.

He had to shake these thoughts now and push everything he loved to the back of his mind, again.

A gentle tapping at the door made them both jump slightly, followed by a muffled murmur.

Narcissa adjusted her robe, “That would be the maid. Quickly, now.”

Draco stood to answer the door, to find a woman dressed in all black on the other side of it. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of him, but promptly corrected herself and diverted them down. He guessed that she had not been expecting a wizard at the door, or perhaps she was concerned that his mother was harboring a Muggle, considering his attire.

He took the opportunity to scan her, wondering what this maid had possibly witnessed since procuring such a position at the manor. She was dressed in an orthodox witch’s robe that draped the whole of her body so that he could barely even see the tips of her black pointed shoes. Her flushed face was the only thing revealed from the black scarf wrapped around her head under a tall black pointed hat. It reminded him of etchings in a book he had seen in his father’s library, “The Purest Coven”, which had detailed the first recorded gathering of witches.

He guessed that this was the Dark Lord’s way of reminding everyone of their magical roots.

Narcissa gave the maid some brief instructions on which clothes to retrieve for Draco. The woman did not speak or look up, but simply disappeared into the hallway. Draco lingered by the door, not knowing what to do. They only ever had house elves that popped in from one location to another. Would she be allowed to do such things?

He turned slightly, holding onto the door handle and thinking out loud, “We’ve never had a maid before…”

Narcissa nodded in agreement. “Yes, but she’s quite good. Though she’s not just a maid. I honestly don’t know what to call her.”

Draco closed the door slowly, “Oh? What else does-”

“Breeding.”

Draco abruptly reacted by shutting the door so it clicked loudly upon closing. The longer he stood in this room, the more questions arose, but he thought this particular one would be unwise to pursue in their limited time.

His mother thought otherwise. “She is a pureblood, and her husband was a Death Eater. The Dark Lord still holds her accountable...”

His mother’s words faded, and now it plagued him with curiosity and darker thoughts than before. Draco bit his lip, the connotations infiltrating his mind.

The one he was least ready for, was the one his mother offered up. “She is older than you, but, no doubt it will be suggested.”

Draco froze. Surely he was not to be paired with the maid based on her ‘good breeding’. Was this what things had come to?

“There are butlers as well… most are proud to have this honor. Darling, I’m merely pointing it out so as not to surprise you if it’s discussed. We don’t want to break your… pretense. Focus now, one task at a time.”

How could Draco concentrate now? He was to be paired with a woman for no other reason than to create pureblood babies?

His mother made it worse with the following comment: “I assure you, her age is a better match than what others have paired.” He noticed her jaw clench and her hands ball up, which made him uneasy. She tilted her head toward him. “We can put things right, Draco.”

His mind slipped once again onto Hermione, and how she would feel about this. Swallowing hard, he tried to push her to the back of his mind again, when he heard a light tapping at the door.

Draco opened it once more to find the woman in black holding out a hanger of finely pressed clothes. He peeked out, grabbing the hanger and nodded at her, eyeing her differently than before.

She smiled politely and left when Narcissa dismissed her. Draco gently closed the door, and walked past his mother to lay the clothing on her bed. He stared at them for a moment and he had the eerie feeling that this would be the outfit he would be wearing when he haunted the manor. He wished he had some liquid luck potion to get him through all of this.

Potions. He glanced to his mother as he peeled off his shirt to change, careful to keep his medallion around his neck. Did she need a potion? Had she taken any? Would Bellatrix truly have damaged her and left her in this state?

Her lack of wand usage, and possibly potions, all frazzled him. This was not the world he had left, and he thought back to the lack of flowers that used to adorn the front of the manor. Perhaps this was all part of a punishment for her, restricting her from her usual habits and her pride in her own home.

A horrible sort of nail-tapping was heard at the door a moment later, and Draco could not help the heat that flared through his body when he thought of what his aunt had done. He slipped on his black oxford shirt, his fingers fumbling nervously at each button while Bellatrix’s muffled coos made the hairs on his neck rise. "Draccoooooo, it's your auntyyyy. Let's go or we'll miss him!"

It was as if she was eager to take him to a carnival. Though, in quick reflection of his circumstances, this world was actually turning into one. Everything he was about to do was a different type of magic. The kind of magic Muggles had imagined it to be: a farce, heavy with misdirection.

Hastily, he finished changing, wishing he could have more time, or even to shower. As he buttoned his cuffs, he noticed that they did not reach to the end of his wrists. Glancing down, even his pants looked to be slightly too short, and his shoes snug. He even questioned that they were his at all, but concluded he must have grown slightly since he had been gone. He took his wand to cast a spell, but nothing happened. He tried again, frustrated that a simple spell would not cast, and glanced to his mother for an explanation. She shook her head, not even needing to speak to convey his assumptions. Was there a charm on her room? Or was it the whole of the manor? Why would the Dark Lord block magic when it was the very thing he was protecting?

Now finished dressing, he stepped over to his mother, still sitting at the chaise, and frail or not, knelt to embrace her. She mumbled into his shoulder, "You can do this. Remember your lessons. Don’t forget, control your mind."

Draco did not let her go when she began to pull away. Hugging her was a comfort he recalled from his childhood, and he insisted on a longer moment to embrace her. He strained to hold back a tear as he murmured, “I’m sorry…”

His mother succeeded in pulling away the second time, brushing his hair back to meet his eyes. “Draco, your regrets are useless in this place. Fixing it is all we have left.”

Draco exhaled, nodding in agreement. He could not be sentimental now; he had to imagine his success, hoping it would be enough to get by this time.

Standing up straight, he attempted to conjure confidence without the use of magic or potions. He swept his hand across his clothing to free it of wrinkles, and cleared his throat. Peering down at her, she seemed to reflect his body language, sitting up a little straighter and nodding in approval.

Steeling himself, he unlatched the door to open as his mother chimed, “Draco. Don’t eat the meat.”

Draco paused, turning back toward his mother inquisitively. Then he focused on something past her, to the plate full of food that appeared untouched.

Without warning, he felt the door push open and a strong grip on his arm as Bellatrix pulled him into the hallway as she scoffed back, “Honestly, Cissy, the things you fuss over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took a while, my apologies dear readers. Much of this story is being altered from this point on (from what I had originally published years before). All for the best though, promise! Two more things: First, thank you HeartOfAspen for working through this chapter with me, and obviously for all the beta edits you spent time on. I have learned so much from you, which burns my pride to admit, but I suspect you secretly enjoy it. :P And second, to the readers, I'm always open to your thoughts, so don't be shy in the comment box down there! I love your feedback, and I guess I'm too emotionally stunted to ask sometimes.


	30. Haven

After the last 72 hours, where every second thrived on near-fatal circumstances, the eerie silence of the prefect’s bathroom was numbing. Hermione’s only company was the water lapping against her body, which echoed against the stone tiles of the expansive tub. The steam that rose from the water had traces of eucalyptus, which filtered from a spout she had chosen, labeled “calming solution.” There she was, attempting to relax, her body anchored heavily onto a shallow step at the entrance of the large bath. As she eased back against the stone edge, bubbles modestly accumulated just past her breast line.

There was small hope that Hogwarts could be a haven, now that they had returned. They had hidden away in the room of requirement, but that had been short lived; Headmaster Snape could not be allowed to continue on, and they needed to take back Hogwarts. Collecting what students were willing and professors with an alliance with the Order, the ragtag group had confronted Snape only a handful of hours ago, and won.

After Snape’s exit and the demise of the Carrows, there was a brief feeling of safety, but they knew better. Hogwarts was changed. This was no longer a place where students could feel safe, after all, the Dark Lord had tainted it over the years. Hermione’s return made her think of her childhood bedroom after her parents had converted it into a guest room. It no longer belonged to her, and she was a stranger in it.

Sitting up, Hermione inhaled the steam of eucalyptus.

The brutal days that had passed felt more like months: packed with her traumatizing transformation into Bellatrix at Gringotts, escaping on a debilitated dragon, and nearly being caught by Snatchers as they snuck into Hogwarts. Every moment they were likely to get caught, every spell bound to be their last.

Hermione took a step into the water…

She reflected on Harry’s heroics in confronting Snape. Harry had gone into most everything in his life not knowing… Hermione paused. Looking down into the water, she wondered how he could live his life, always having to make decisions with uncertainty. He deserved better.

Swallowing hard, she barely remembered catching McGonagall up on their adventures. They had filtered out so many things, like Draco. Harry and Ron thought it best to leave him out, along with the horcruxes, unsure of who they could trust. Ron had already expressed his paranoia over the fact that Draco knew so much. Hermione stubbornly withheld that she shared this apprehension and was left to wonder what would happen to Draco, carrying precious information so close to Lord Voldemort.

McGonagall’s response to their heroics was simple: she had assigned them rooms in which to stay, and to recover. Hermione glanced over to her purse, sitting aside her bathrobe at the edge of the bath, and thought of the last place she had recovered. The tent was abandoned to the depths of her bag, and it was only now that she truly realized how safe she had been there, with Draco.

Maybe she could cleanse herself of these last few days by fully immersing herself in the tub? Taking a deep breath, she shifted forward and away from the steps, dunking herself under the water. An unexpected panic arose within her and she promptly emerged, gulping for air. There it was again: the exhilaration of survival. Her heart thumped heavily trying to contain her adrenaline, and now the heat of the bath was unbearable.

Water dripping from her hair, she shakily slicked it back so she could see, and scanned the cavernous space. She had never been in this prefects’ bath before, it was larger than the one for the Gryffindors. Had the previous prefects shared this bath, or was it meant for swimming laps for leisure? She tried to hone in on something more comforting. Had Hogwarts a History referenced the baths? But her own distractions were useless, her mind insisting on the review of her recent memories, followed by anxiety.

The only reason she had been sent to unwind in these baths at all, was because she was sure Madam Pomfrey had seen something of this in her eyes. It only took a quick summary of the last school semester for Hermione to understand why the rooms and baths that had been offered were available at all: there weren’t any prefects this year. Apparently, Snape had believed prefects were not needed if the correct charms were set in place. She strayed from asking questions as to what those charms entailed.

Hermione splashed away a bubble that glided toward her as she thought. Snape... Headmaster... more like, disaster. She was relieved that his exit was quick, abandoning Hogwarts completely. There were, however, still so many unanswered questions and she was eager to seek out anyone with explanation. Such as, why was student attendance so low, and how much could they be learning while under such duress?

A stream of light beamed in from the window, where it filtered into the water right over her abdomen. Leaning back on the hard stone surface again, she slid her hand over her stomach, then glanced back up to the light source.

A scene depicting a family of merpeople was fashioned from hues of blue and green stained glass, the little merchild looking as if it were smiling directly at her. This triggered Hermione’s emotions, a secret she had repressed, a burden that weighed on every decision. Would she have told Draco? Would it be different if he were still with them at Diagon Alley? Should she have continued their plans, polyjuicing into Bellatrix, even under her self-prognosis of pregnancy?

Hermione had a difficult time forgiving herself either way. She hated the way that hideous witch continued to alter her fate. It had to be done, she thought, we needed to enter the vault. Closing her eyes, the events were still fresh in her mind, it was if it were only moments ago she had come up with the mad idea to pounce a tortured dragon in order to escape Gringotts. The contrast of soaring high into the sky, followed by plummeting into a cold lake, did not help her nerves. Her adrenaline rose again, simply upon recalling it, rendering her bath a useless form of relaxation.

Turning her head, she sighed at the sight of her pile of clothes and the bottle of calming draught, all waiting for her. Everyone had been urging her to disconnect from it all, but that was easier said than done. She was adamant on analyzing the last few days before she could repress it with a potion. It was her only way to obtain control at the moment, to collect and filter out her decisions.

Every part of her mind was littered with one stressful thought after another. Now, it hovered on thoughts of Draco. Was he safe?

Only now with him gone, did she realize how she had come to rely on him, his confidence, his solutions, his… Hermione exhaled, trying to relieve her rising panic. Falling in love with Draco Malfoy was definitely not what she had expected when her friends had decided to abandon everything over a year ago. Until the tent, the burden of resolving things had fallen heavily on her. Harry had the connection to Voldemort, Ron… well, Ron was more of a support, but Hermione had to admit, he had done a bloody good job replacing Draco as her escort into Gringotts.

Pulling back her soaking hair, she felt the medallion bump against her breast and she glanced down at it, urging it to ping a message. It had been days since she had heard from him. Hermione concluded that either distance or his unique circumstances would not allow him to respond as quickly as she hoped.

Prepared to waft away another cluster of bubbles, her breath hitched as a thought occurred. Quickly lifting the medallion out of the water, she shook the droplets away, hissing, “Shit.”

Was this waterproof? Her heart raced as she turned around to search for a towel. Leaning over the edge of the tub, her bathrobe was the closest item, so she hastily wrapped a corner of it over her necklace, as if her pleading mumbles would help.

“Please, please...”

Then, it dawned on her, maybe she had not heard from him because of her plunge into the lake. Could it have been defective since then? When it was finally dry, she inspected it. The pewter-colored piece shone from the light source behind her, but nothing was notably different than before. Carefully, she rose from the bath, took a step up and out and turned to sit on the ledge. She kept her eye on the center of the medallion where it glowed when a message was sent, while absentmindedly reaching for her robe to drape around her shoulders. What if it didn’t work anymore? How much more loss could she take? She stared into the bathwater, transfixed by the reflecting light, then followed it back up to the stained glass that pieced together the family of merpeople.

What if Madam Pomfrey was wrong? What if she was pregnant? Hermione’s eyes scanned the fragments of colors in the window, mulling over her recent visit to the Hospital Wing. She had taken Madam Pomfrey aside, away from Harry and Ron. The situation was awkward, but once she finally spit it out, Pomfrey suspiciously glanced over her shoulder to her friends, as if one of them was the father.

It turned out however, she was not pregnant at all. She expected to be relieved, but her guilt over her decisions were still fresh on her conscience. Just as Mrs. Weasley had done months ago, Madam Pomfrey cast another contraception spell for her, followed by a debriefing on how to update the spell regularly.

She had wanted to ask the healer so much more, such as if Polyjuicing could have affected a pregnancy, or if other unusual activities could be damaging, like slamming your body full-force into the broken scales of a dragon. The boys only knew she had bruised her hip. She could not allow the added stress of a pregnancy to be placed on the mission. Would she have even told Draco if he was there? In any circumstance, would she have kept it?

When her eyes landed on the small mermaid holding her mother’s fin, she clenched the medallion with both hands and burst into a tremble. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

She clutched the robe tight around her body, it was all too much. Then, her sniffling was interrupted by the sound of the medallion pinging.

Hearing the simple tone of the medallion made her excitable, and she untucked her hand from the robe, opening her palm to look at it. The soft glow meant there was a message from Draco.

Heart racing, she wiped her blurred tears away to read it. As she focused on the space where the letters appeared, she nearly missed the first message, only briefly catching the words before they faded away.

‘death eater now’

Then, another message surfaced.

‘meeting dark lord’

Hermione exhaled. Had he forgotten that each message took over another, or had these been sent at different intervals and were collecting all at once?

She waited, wanting another collection of words from him, but nothing else happened. The last, grim message lingered on the medallion. What if that was the last she ever heard from him? Meeting the Dark Lord? She tapped the surface of it, as if to fix the connection, but nothing changed. Perhaps she would go to the library to research this type of magic. She expected that it would be quiet there, especially with the low turnout of students.

Hermione allowed the trinket to fall back onto her chest, the chain cool on her neck, and bit her lip, trying to convince herself that Draco was alive. This small bit of news gave her some strength in her convictions. How could she simply relax? She bent down, grabbing her tattered clothes and purse and abandoning the calming draught, determined to talk to Headmistress McGonagall.

. . . . .

Once she had changed, Hermione made her way into the Gryffindor common room, where she passed three younger students she did not recognize, but by their youth she guessed they were first years. They were distracted by a spell book, pointing at the pages and sniggering, and Hermione had to wonder what they had managed to learn under the leadership of Snape and the Carrows. She instantly pitied them, as they would not have the Hogwarts experience she had. Though upon reflection, perhaps someone had viewed her in a similar light, because of her closeness with Harry.

As she stepped out of the Gryffindor portrait hole, Hermione yelped when she nearly bumped into Headmistress McGonagall.

“Bless my bagpipes, Miss Granger.”

Hermione had dropped her purse and her hair was still dripping. With a quick smile, she bent to pick up her things. “Sorry, I was deep in thought-”

“Yes, I imagine you have a lot to think about. Have you had a time to freshen up?”

McGonagall had been inspecting Hermione’s hair, and she realized it was probably the first time the professor had seen her this way. Slightly embarrassed, Hermione pulled her purse tight against her body. She had forgotten she could cast spells again to do simple tasks like drying her hair. “Yes, I, er- I’m still getting used to the convenience of magic again… we always tried to avoid using it before...”

“Well, if you don’t mind…” McGonagall took out her wand, flicking it toward her head.

There was a gentle tug on her hair followed by a warm breeze, and just like that, her hair was dry. Hermione patted her head, her hair soft and light. Perhaps she needed to ask her what spell she had used. “Thank you…”

The headmistress then turned to walk in another direction. “Yes, well, if you are revived from your adventures, we have work to do. Please follow me.”

Hermione did not interject as McGonagall began to stride down the hall, a few students clearing the way for her. Hermione glanced around and obeyed, trotting to keep up.

Once the two witches were side by side, McGonagall flicked her wand and cast a Muffliato charm around them as they continued on. “As you may have seen, Miss Granger, a lot has changed here at Hogwarts. Due to the kerfuffle of my previous colleagues, I’m having to recalibrate the curriculum and reorganize the classrooms…”

Hermione kept pace with her, eagerly awaiting a pause so she could blurt out the plethora of questions she had. It took a good amount of effort to hold back the habit of raising her hand.

McGonagall paused abruptly, facing Hermione to insinuate the importance of her next words, her Scottish brogue rippling past her tongue. “The Order will be taking over half of Hogwarts, Miss Granger.”

Hermione nodded, making eye contact with her superior to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. It was a brief exchange, after which the headmistress turned to continue walking.

Just when Hermione thought she had an opening to speak, McGonagall continued, “I suspect you’ve already gathered that there are fewer students at Hogwarts.”

Hermione looked up, witnessing the breaking away of one of the staircases as they pivoted into another direction in the distance, free of any passengers. “Yes-”

“And if you recall during our briefing with you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley, upon your arrival, the Ministry has required all eligible students to attend, regardless of the inclement atmosphere?”

Hermione was quiet, reflecting on everything she had been told. The headmistress paused to look at her.

“Miss Granger, do you recall?”

Hermione quickly nodded, but the way her superior slowly drew away her gaze seemed to imply that she was worried over Hermione’s state of mind. As they began to walk again, Hermione was eager to prove herself, wanting McGonagall to get on with her point so that it could be her turn to ask questions.

“Well, students are also ineligible to attend Hogwarts if they do not meet certain requirements, such as obtaining the correct books and supplies.”

Again, Hermione nodded, glancing down at her medallion impatiently until she noticed McGonagall watching her. Concerned that the perceptive witch might be able to glean what she was distracted by, Hermione perked up and deviated, “Yes, I recall this from my initial Hogwarts letter, and years after...”

McGonagall faced forward again, and Hermione hoped she would not inquire as to why she was so focused on the front of her shirt. Even her own friends did not know about the medallion, mostly due to Ron’s deep disgust with her relationship already. Before entering Hogwarts, she had made Harry and Ron promise not to reveal Draco’s alliances. After all, if any of them had learned anything from Draco’s previous actions whilst at school, they should know not to trust anyone unless they investigated further. All they had to do was pretend they had not met him at all on their journey. Ron was reluctant, but Hermione could sense that he was happy to be rid of him. Meanwhile Hermione had begun to question if it would be better or worse to reveal this to her newly appointed headmistress, but decided that now was not the time..

“Well,” McGonagall went on as they made their way down the castle’s south corridors, “it was curious when the remaining book suppliers were suddenly out of stock, right as the students went to purchase their supplies for the beginning of the year. Even more curious that certain families already had their things, whilst others did not even receive their supply lists until a day before the start of term.”

Hermione reflected on Ginny, who had not come to school this year; she assumed it had been because of Mrs. Weasley’s determination to keep her safe. Though as they were already going against the Ministry’s rules by having a son on the run, perhaps the Weasleys had damned the rules altogether. Hermione did not have time to discuss the details with any of Dumbledore’s Army who had returned to Hogwarts that year. They had only expressed their interests in joining Order of the Phoenix. She had yet to get into any further details, as they had been rushed to the infirmary after their arrival.

“I suspect it was my predecessor’s doing. Though I do not know why Severus would do such a thing.”

Hermione scrunched her nose upon hearing his wretched name, associating it with years of bullying. Why would Snape want to keep students from entering Hogwarts against the Ministry’s insistence? The Ministry of Magic was so obviously under the authority of Lord Voldemort, as were Snape and his cronies. Where was McGonagall going with this line of logic... and where in the name of Circe, Merlin, and Morgana were they walking to?

As they descended one of the castle’s many stone stairways, Hermione finally found some sense of bearing when she recognized a portrait hanging along the route to the Potions dungeon. McGonagall must have noticed her confusion, because she explained, “We have consolidated the students into other dorms for the time being, and are currently using the Slytherin common room as a second Hospital Wing.”

Hermione’s attention was piqued. Their destination had more weight to it now than it had in years before. She studied the space with a different perspective: Draco’s. Scanning the portraits on the walls, she wondered if they had changed, or if it was exactly what he had once passed on a daily basis. Had the portraits ever spoken to him? Lectured him on curfew?

Soon, they came to a blank expanse of stone wall and there was no where else to walk. McGonagall turned to Hermione and prompted, “You are aware of the founder of St. Mungo’s from History of Magic, I think?”

Hermione nodded that she did.

Eying the wall with purpose, McGonagall gave the password, “Mungo Bonham.”

The wall shifted outward to reveal the entrance to the Slytherin commons. There was a gust of air as the stones finished sliding away, accompanied by a very specific scent of medicinal potions and cleansing spells for sanitation, that reminded Hermione of the hospital wing she had just been in. Faint chatter trailed outward from within.

They made their way down a short hallway before the space opened into a circular room. The lighting was dimmer here than Hermione was used to, and the area was filled with pretentious leather settees and mahogany tables. The glass windows appeared as large fish tanks and she paused to see refractions of a lagoon-green light, reminding her that they were under the lake.

"That’s the Black Lake..." Hermione whispered to herself.

McGonagall followed Hermione's eyes to the window. "Yes, Miss Granger... this is your first time in here, as it has been for most of us."

Hermione nodded. The windows to the lake made her uneasy, as if any student firing a stray spell could crack the glass and the whole area might flood with water and all sorts of creatures that lived in there. She took a step back, swearing she had just seen an unusually large fin flicker in the distance.

McGonagall must have sensed her apprehension. “The glass will not break, I assure you. The founders had certain... mishaps. We, ourselves, cannot remove the enchantments.” She paused and added one more tidbit, “It is said that Salazar Slytherin insisted on underground windows, proclaiming that his type of students would work best under the influence of water, as it represented power and importance.”

Hermione swallowed hard, internally questioning her safety from other of Salazar Slytherin’s enchantments. She also did not recall these details from her favorite history book. Feeling she was walking a fine line between a house tour and trespassing, Hermione looked up at the headmistress, giving her an unsure smile.

“Right, this way, Miss Granger.” McGonagall confidently led her down another hallway and to the sleeping quarters, where she pushed in a door to enter the dormitory. "These used to be separated by witch and wizard, but for now we are placing people as they come in.”

Hermione was astounded to find a makeshift hospital already in full force. There were patients resting in four-poster beds and house elves scurrying around, clinking potion bottles as they went.

“Now, Miss Granger, due to your skill level, we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind aiding Madam Pomfrey here.”

Hermione froze. Skill level? She only knew a few meager healing spells and perhaps a go-to scouring charm, but nothing like a real healer. Her mind frantically tried to contemplate how she could be of help without years of proper training.

McGonagall rested her hand on her shoulder. “I know you would rather continue your studies, but seeing as you have missed a whole term, you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley will have to return another year.” She cleared her throat. “If the situation turns in our favor, of course.”

Hermione swiftly glanced up. How had the thought of Hogwarts not existing as an educational institute not come to her until now? She had always assumed, even with all the recent changes, the good would win out. Though now that McGonagall was suggesting it, it was surreal. There was an uncomfortable swooping feeling in her gut at the idea that she might not be able to finish her years of schooling here.

Trying to push aside the internal funeral of her education, Hermione nodded. How could she not agree to help?

“Right, Madam Pomfrey will explain everything, though I think she's busy with a patient just now..."

Hermione grimaced to herself at the idea of becoming a healer’s aid rather than learning in a classroom or fighting with the Order. Maybe she appeared too worn and shaken. Did her own headmistress think her incapable of fighting? She wondered if McGonagall had approached Harry and Ron with similar tasks. Pinching her lips to contain any visual disappointment, she knew Harry would deviate from any such ‘safe’ task as this. He would find a way to fight... so maybe, she would, too.

If Hermione had given away any of her frustration, McGonagall did not acknowledge it. She simply gave Hermione a warm pat on the shoulder and turned to exit the dormitory.

With a deep exhale, Hermione looked around in an attempt to get acquainted with her new surroundings. Every other bed was taken by a witch or wizard, none of whom appeared to be students, and she found small relief in the fact that she did not recognize any of them. She suspected they were from the Order, given that Hogwarts was apparently becoming a headquarters for them now. Maybe once they looked well enough, she could ask them about their experiences. She glanced around in search of Madam Pomfrey, but she was nowhere to be found; perhaps she was in another room. Hermione took this time to explore the space she was now assigned to, wondering if maybe she would find another student who was aiding the cause as well.

Deciding to turn in the opposite direction and see how far it went, she left the dormitory for the empty hallway beyond, which allowed her time to collect her thoughts. She paused when she came across a room devoid of patients. As Hermione stepped inside, she approached one of the beds, her fingertips grazing across the dark green curtains that hung from the four-posters. They were all set up neatly, except one. The pillow was slightly askew and she suspected that since she was now working here, this could be a simple first task.

Picking up the plush, white pillow to adjust it, she internally lectured herself to use magic, especially if this space were to remain clinically clean. Next time, she concluded. Nearly stepping away, she noticed some scratch marks indented into the dark headboard. Peering closer at the markings, her heart skipped a beat to see the initials 'DLM'.

Hermione stared in disbelief. Those are Draco's initials. Did I just find Draco's bed?

Leaning in, she swept her fingers across the letters and cracked a smile. Turning to see if anyone was near and hearing only distant chatter from the common room, she climbed onto the bed.

The mattress was firm but still comfortable, and all of a sudden, she realized how exhausted she actually was. She rested her head on the pillow, resolving, I can fix it all up after. She wondered what it was like to be Draco in this bed for all those years. It was situated at the end, right next to a window with an underwater view of the lake. She turned on her side, staring out into the depths of the water. I wonder if he thought of me here...

The clicking of heels from the hallway startled her and she sat up abruptly, jumping out of the bed and casting a spell to reorganize the crumpled sheets. She was standing there, stiff as a board, when Madam Pomfrey entered.

“There you are! Thank you for helping, Miss Granger.” The medi-witch paced closer, a large book in her hands. “You ought not start today. I’ll need you to study this book in the afternoon and assist me in the mornings, at least until you get the hang of it.” Hermione reached out for the book, but the weight of it and all its implications gave her anxiety. Too busy to coddle her or cater to her concerns, Madam Pomfrey turned on her heel, briskly walking away as she chimed back, “Getting a Hogwarts education, after all. I will see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

Hermione managed to stuff the book into her small bag, which instantly lightened her load. Taking her leave from the Slytherin quarters, she glanced back to Draco’s abandoned bed. Turning to exit, she was assaulted by a wave of drowsiness and determined to finally get some rest. She would try to convince McGonagall tomorrow that she was capable enough to join the Order, and to catch up with Harry and Ron, wherever they were. The boys had only been able to relax after Ron had learned his family was safe, and after answering questions from eager friends, Hermione suspected the boys were likely sleeping by now, themselves. Just the thought of family made Hermione feel lonely, not being able to tell her parents anything that had happened.

Hermione had no problems avoiding students at this hour, as the few that had returned to school were all probably eating in the Great Hall. She, however, did not have any appetite. More than anything, she wanted a bit of privacy and to make an attempt at sleep. After entering the Gryffindor quarters, she made her way up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. Flinging off her shoes and accio’ing some pajamas, she caught her reflection in a standing mirror as she started to change. She looked frail and worn, and upon closer inspection, she noticed a light, purple mark on her inner thigh. At first she guessed it was a bruise from landing on the dragon. Then, she glanced back up to meet her eyes in the reflection: it was not from the Gringotts incident at all. It was from days before that, at the safehouse.

Turning slightly to view the room, hoping for a continuation of her privacy, she peered back into the mirror, her mind flooding back to those moments at the safehouse. It was not hard to recall that night, the soft glow of the lamp as she stood fully exposed to Draco as he sat on the worn couch, pulling her in before she straddled his hips. The way he gazed at her simply made her feel beautiful, and only now did she realize that she was homesick for that very place in time. Her heart raced, remembering the way his hands had glided across her skin and his lips had kissed her bare legs until she felt a pinch where he had nibbled on the soft expanse of her inner thigh.

Hermione ran her fingers across the mark. The bruise was beginning to heal, hints of purple blotching into spots of light brown against her pale skin. Her mind traveled back to that moment, reflecting on his confession to her that night. Hermione tilted her head to continue studying the bruise in the mirror. It was sensitive to touch, but this residual wound was his mark, and she did not want him to fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this business of writing is come’n along slowly, sorry about that everyone! This story re-edit needed some serious scrubbing! And there is no way these would be rid of those pesky Doxies, if it wasn’t for HeartOfAspen! Thank you for the endless beta editing!!!! I also insist on crediting you for the Slytherin password, clever witch. 
> 
> And, thank you for the FB group, Strictly Dramione, who offer suggestions when I’m at a writing impasse for magical expressions. Shout out to Tasha Morgan for the ‘Sweet Circe, Merlin and Morgana’ post. What would I do without this kind of support? 
> 
> { clears throat for Public Service Announcement } 
> 
> Reminder: Even if you do not review for me, try your best to review for others, no matter their standing popularity. They like it. Give those fantastic beasts a small treat so it keeps them pumped to write more wonderful free stories for you to enjoy! That is all.


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